


The Stratos Bride

by rainbowstrlght



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Episode Related, F/F, M/M, Movie Reference, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-19
Updated: 2011-11-18
Packaged: 2017-10-26 06:36:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 51,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/279881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowstrlght/pseuds/rainbowstrlght
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Joanna thought that visiting Leonard for a week would be awesome. She'd get to meet the father she never knew, hang out on a starship, & meet the famous Jim Kirk - & <i>maybe</i> even get to see something cool. Instead she falls and hits her head, freaks out Leonard into Over-Protective-Dad mode, & has to lamely stay in Sickbay for the rest of the trip. How much worse can it get? Try Jim wanting to tell her a <i>story</i> to help pass the time. Why should Joanna care about some planet named Ardana, & the High Advisor's daughter that gets kidnapped by a pirate? Especially when Jim insists there's romance involved - <i>ew</i>. But when the story starts to reveal that Jim, Spock, & Leonard kidnapped a princess - topped by some adventure and swashbuckling - well, maybe it <i>is</i> worth listening to. Especially when it reveals that Leonard - er, <i>her father</i> - might be someone whom she might unexpectedly like, after all.<br/><b>Summary 2:</b> This is a Reboot version of the TOS episode <a href="http://en.memory-alpha.org/wiki/The_Cloud_Minders_(episode)">"The Cloud Minders"</a>, told as a <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0093779/"><i>Princess Bride</i></a> AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> **Beta:** The amazing [lalazee](http://lalazee.livejournal.com/), who works magic with my ramblings. Thank you so much, darling. ♥
> 
>  **Warnings:** Minor Character Death, AU and TOS Episode Reboot, Strange Story Format, Long and Awful Descriptions of Sword-Fighting and Traversing Great Distances, Violence and Vague Descriptions of Torture.  
>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own _Star Trek_ or any of its mentioned characters. Same goes for the brilliant movie _The Princess Bride_ and the book it was adapted from. Basically I own nothing, grovel at the feet of other people, and hope readers can forgive a cracky reboot.
> 
>  **Note:** This was written for round 3 of [startrekbigbang](http://startrekbigbang.livejournal.com/).
> 
>  **Note Two:** So much thanks goes to [lalazee](http://lalazee.livejournal.com/), [reezoo](http://reezoo.dreamwidth.org), and [carouselcycles](http://carouselcycles.livejournal.com/) for keeping my sanity throughout writing this, and always offering to WAR WITH WORDS. You guys are the best, and nothing would get done without all of you. ♥
> 
>  **OMG OMG THERE'S AWESOME ART!:** [Check it out!](http://reezoo.dreamwidth.org/8145.html)
> 
>  **OMG OMG THERE'S A KICK-ASS MIX!:** [Listen to it!](http://jactrades.livejournal.com/18195.html)

**(** “Listen to your Uncle Jim, here: There are some things worth breaking, and one of them would _not_ be your head.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Joanna wailed for perhaps the tenth time that day. One, when Scotty discovered her after the fall in the Jeffries tubes, another when she was rushed to Sickbay and coddled by Nurse Chapel. The worst being when her father charged in and didn’t even look her straight in the eye for a time, until he mumbled, “Damn girl, you ain’t some Rigellian monkey with ten arms—what the _hell_ were you thinkin’?”

So perhaps Jim was the mildest of it. After all, he rarely treated her like an eleven-year-old girl, and even now he was looking at her with more amusement than scorn.

No, that was best left to Commander Spock—although he kind of always looked that way, when she thought about it.

“Well, now you’re banned from all Jeffries tubes, and to top it off you have to stay here for a good twelve hours. You’d think the first would be punishment enough,” Jim scolded, although Joanna could see the smile peeking underneath.

Sure, _he_ could smile. But until her father could determine the lack of any serious side effects of her fall, she would have to play by the rules of his old-fashioned medicine: Twelve hours of staying awake, no ifs or buts about it, despite the scans already confirming she was perfectly fine and concussion-free.

And it _was_ punishment, all right. Forty-five minutes into the game and she already wanted to run amuck like those Rigellian monkeys she’d been accused of.

“Hey, guess what,” Jim said, and Joanna tried not to look too eager—something Leonard had taught her, you could say. _It only encourages him._

“Back when I was sick, my brother used to tell me stories. Usually from a book, but—“ Jim tapped his head, “I think I have something up here.”

“ _You_? Tell a _story_?” Which, okay, came out whinier than she intended. But what sort of stories would _he_ possibly share? After only knowing him for a week, she knew enough that it probably involved a bar, some fist-fight, and maybe a girl or two.

Jim frowned. “What, you don’t think I can?”

Joanna shook her head. “Not like that. Just… what’s it about?”

It would be funny to hear something with sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll—and then see her father try to kill the captain.

“Bones has been telling stories, hasn’t he?”

Joanna shrugged her delicate shoulders, and he waved a dismissive hand.

“Well, if you don’t want to hear it, I can just go back to the bridge and leave you all alone—“

“Okay, okay!” Surely any story would be better than staring at the gray-tiled ceiling of Sickbay. “What’s in it?”

Jim took his time, picking imaginary lint off his sleeve as he sat back down. “Oh, nothing. Just some action-adventure, some romance, some sword-fighting—“

“Fine, you’ve got me.” She settled back into her pillow and crossed her arms. “Is there a title?”

Jim pursed his lips in thought. “Would _The Stratos Bride_ work?”

“It’s about clouds?” Joanna frowned. “This isn’t a fairytale, is it?”

“Will you just _let me tell it_? Geez, you need more disclaimers than a legal brief.”

Joanna was about to open her mouth, but then closed it as she tried not to glare.

Jim graced her with a charming smile—and yeah, okay, it might have melted her insides. Just a tiny bit.

“Several light-years from here, there’s a planet called Ardana. It’s sort of like Earth, in that it has an oxygen atmosphere, humanoid inhabitants, and some deserts and greenery. But what makes it different is that the main cities and governments are in the clouds,” Jim pointed at the ceiling, “and they’re in charge of the people down below, who are miners in the caves.”

The finger then pointed to the floor, and Joanna rolled her eyes. “Is this going to be about an unfair caste system and slave labor?”

Jim narrowed his eyes. “ _How_ old are you?”

She huffed.

“Anyway,” Jim continued. “One of those clouds is called Stratos, and it’s home to the High Advisor, named Plasus. He’s not only in charge of his cloud of city dwellers, but he’s also in charge of controlling the cave dwellers, called Troglytes. He has a high position in the government, due to being in charge of the planet’s… uh…”

As Jim fumbled for simple terminology, Joanna stared at him.

“Department of Commerce?”

“Seriously, you going to let me tell it?” But Jim was smirking as he tried not to laugh. “Anyway, you’re right. He dealt with all the trade that went on and off the planet, and so he was a very respected guy. Very wealthy, too. And so he kept a reputable and distinguished household—not to mention lavished everything he had upon his only daughter, Droxine.” **)**

 

Her mother had died when she was very young, so the attention she received in her mother’s stead made her a little demanding. Some would probably call this spoiled, as she expected her maids to attend to her every whim.

“Maid,” Droxine would call out. “Fetch me my slippers.”

And her personal chambermaid, Vanna, would often be the one to obey. “As you wish,” she would say—the same words she said for over eleven years, to every one of her charge’s requests.

“As you wish,” to tend the fire. “As you wish,” to refill the vanity pitcher. “As you wish,” to launder all her dresses, “As you wish,” to pick them up from the floor—the four-poster bed, the railing, or shredded from a temper tantrum on the balcony.

And Vanna, who was red-haired, green-eyed, strong and tanned—entirely different from the blonde and blue-eyed, delicate Droxine—did this without complaint, looking into her charge’s eyes. _As you wish._

You’d think all this obedience would make Droxine happy. In a way, it did. But in reality it brought out a wicked side of her, and only caused her to request really nasty things.

“Maid, fetch me the painting from Hall Three,” she would state nonchalantly, as if this painting wasn’t made with 20 kilograms of mineral adornments. “Maid, please acquire another copy of this musical score,” despite the copy needing the calmest touch of the written hand, with hours of tedium. “Maid, fetch me some ironspar,” although this mineral required leaving the city, and going into the mines of madness beneath the safe city of cloud.

But Vanna would do all these things, no matter the effort. “As you wish.” _Always_ , “As you wish.”

And one day it occurred to Droxine during the worst of errands—when Vanna practically hung over the balcony to capture a rogue pet bird—that when Vanna solemnly stated, “As you wish,” she was also solemnly stating, _I love you_.

“Maid,” Droxine said as she stood in the sunlit hall before her book of pressed herbs. “Fetch me my paring knife.”

And Vanna, stepping before the table of herbs and never looking away from those blue eyes she cherished, grasped the knife before them and softly said, “As you wish.”

And when Droxine’s fingers met hers around the paring knife, so too did their lips meet each other, to claim a passionate and long-hoped for kiss—

 

 **(** “Hold up, hold up!” Joanna waved a hand. “Is this a kissing story?”

Jim made a face. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

Joanna gave him a _look_.

“What, you don’t like my attempt at poeticism?”

“I just—“ Joanna stuck out her tongue. “Kissing is gross.”

Jim grinned. “Someday you _might_ feel differently. But I promise this isn’t entirely ‘a kissing story’. Just… “ he twirled a finger, “some parts of it?”

“Well, as long as there’s not too much.”

Jim put up a hand. “All right, I’ll keep it to a minimum. But it’s relevant— _I promise_.”

Joanna gave him a skeptical look. **)**

 

It seemed that after a time, Droxine had grown to love Vanna as much as her maid had grown to love her—

 

 **(** “What? It’s relevant!”

“Are they going to stop kissing now?”

Jim rolled his eyes. **)**

 

And they were happy for a while, after that. Vanna still attended to every one of her charge’s whims, but maybe Droxine demanded a little less—satisfied in a way she hadn’t known for some time, satisfied with just Vanna’s company.

Until Droxine became of age at 18 years and Vanna was called back to the mines, where her family of Troglytes still resided.

“Will you return for me?” Droxine whispered, her cheeks streaked with tears.

Despite only a year of knowing their love, there was a deep sense of being meant for each other. It was incredibly painful to be separated, and the denial of the truth was even harder to bear—that Troglytes never came back, as they were never meant to live in the clouds.

But despite the impossibilities, Vanna whispered fervently, “I will find a way back to you, _I promise_.”

And after a kiss—a _brief_ kiss—Vanna left for the mines below, from which she was never heard or seen from again.

 

 **(** “Is this a dying people story?”

“What, you mean people dying isn’t the opposite of romance?” Jim shook his head. “There's just no pleasing some people.”

“I thought you said there was some action-adventure?”

“ _Patience_ , Grasshopper. I just started on the good part.”

“Oh good, I was thinking it’d never come.” **)**

 

Five years later, Droxine’s father sent out an announcement of his daughter’s impending marriage. She was to marry the Prince of Cirrus in a neighboring cloud, who had long sought after her hand to symbolically unite their branches of government.

“The people are pleased,” Plasus said with a wide grin, staring with adoration at his beautiful daughter. “This is the beginning of a new era for Ardana. You should be proud.”

And after those long five years—of which Vanna was rumored dead—Droxine’s heart had turned to coal. All she had left was the welfare of her people, and especially the happiness of her father.

So she answered, “I am,” and resigned herself to the best interests of her kingdom instead of matters of the heart.

 

 **(** “What purple prose crap are you spewing at my daughter?”

Joanna saw Leonard exit his office, making a beeline for her biobed. He pulled at the curtained partition behind him, blocking off the rest of Sickbay.

As he studied her monitor and wrote down an update of her vitals—for the third time that hour—Jim lolled his head up to grin at him.

“The story of Stratos.”

Her father rolled his eyes. “Oh, of course.” He set her diagnostic PADD back in a holder. “How you feelin’, kiddo?”

Joanna rolled her own eyes. She was _eleven_. “Fine. I feel just fine—“ _Leonard._ The last she bit off, as she knew it would only upset him. Plus her mother told her not to.

But he didn’t seem to notice. “Good. Only eleven more hours to go.”

Joanna sighed in exasperation.

“Jim, she’s picking up all your tricks. I swear I had a mild-tempered daughter a week ago.”

“What? I never do that!”

“Sure you don’t.”

Jim heaved an exasperated sigh, and Joanna heard Leonard chuckle.

“What part are you at, anyway?”

“Droxine’s marriage announcement.”

“Oh, this should be good, since you show up after this.”

Joanna narrowed her eyes at the both of them. “He does?”

Leonard huffed. “Why else do you think he’s telling it?”

Jim pointed next to him. “So does he.”

Joanna quirked a lip. “Okay, maybe I _do_ want to hear this.”

Leonard pulled a chair from across Sickbay as Jim continued. **)**

 

However, the thing with being wealthy and in charge is that once you put out a personal announcement it interests quite a few people—and more often than not, it’s the _wrong_ kind of people. This was proven to be especially true in Droxine’s case, as the day she left Stratos her embassy was over-turned by pirates and she was kidnapped.

 

 **(** “In the air?”

“Where else?” **)**

 

These pirates had a certain agenda, however.

“Are you sure no one’s following us?” Bones asked, as Spock and I piloted the shuttlecraft.

 

 **(** “Wait, hold up. You, Spock, and Le— _Dad_ —kidnapped Droxine?”

Jim shrugged. “We had our reasons.” **)**

 

“I am certain that I would locate them on our sensors if that were the case,” Spock said while fiddling with the controls.

Droxine was in back, being watched and tended by Bones—who was grumbling, of course, about chafing and shenanigans and everything your dad tends to complain about.

“Well, then explain to me why I see a lone shuttle out our back viewscreen.”

I looked at our diagrams. “I don’t know, Bones. Maybe their sensors aren’t as touchy as ours.”

“Stratos technology is comparable to Federation technology, but it may be the case,” Spock concurred, checking a dial as he appeared wholly unconcerned.

“Well…” and Bones trailed off, looking at Droxine’s black hood. “Can we at least take this off? How long is this flight going to be, anyway?”

“Unknown, Doctor. I am searching for a suitable place to land.”

“I think it’s okay, Bones.” I had to admit, being hooded and not knowing what was going on would suck. It’s not like she wouldn’t have recognized us by now, anyway.

Which was proven true when Bones ripped it off and Droxine raged at us. “Starfleet! My father will be greatly displeased by this.”

“That’s the point,” I said as I turned back to the controls. “He won’t share the mineral that the Federation needs, so I have to take drastic measures.”

“He said he was searching—“

“Right, and I’ll believe that when pigs fly.” I flipped a switch. “Do these things go any faster?”

“They are not meant for interstellar travel, and thus do not have the need—“

“Right.” I sighed. “Well, our friend behind us can’t seem to go any faster either, so there’s that.”

“What panel states—“

“It didn’t Spock, but I have eyes just as Bones does.” In fact, better eyesight than he does—although the black dot of a shuttle behind us was plain to see.

“That is curious. Perhaps they are a trading vessel to the surface.“

“No, we’re not on the trading route. Whoever it is, they are following _us_.” Especially since we were a good kilometer or so from the route in question.

“I would suspect it is not governmental, as it appears there is only one.”

“Plasus would have a whole fleet after us.” I looked behind us again and saw Droxine doing the same.

Bones touched her shoulder and gained her attention. “We won’t harm you, Droxine.”

“That’s what you stated on Stratos,” she sniffed. And let me tell you, when she sniffed it was with more disdain than Elaan of Troyius, who was a major _bitc_ —well, kind of difficult.

“Your father also stated we would get our mineral,” Spock said coolly. “When agreements change, the involved parties have a right to demand full payment by any means necessary.”

We had debated this on Stratos, of course—the lot of us having waited a day while we knew a whole planet was in distress. It drove your dad crazy, all this bureaucracy while he opined on the suffering involved. But I had conned him into staying with us, in order to fully persuade the high advisor and obtain the mineral as soon as possible.

“My father did not change his agreements.”

“Agree to disagree—although it’s too bad you’re the one tied up right now.”

“You will not get away with this!”

“Oh, I think we will, as we have,” I haughtily said—although I won’t lie, that shuttle behind us made me worry just a _tad_ bit.

Also, Spock was suddenly doing that overly-thinky face that concerns me, sometimes. “Captain, the lights on this panel indicate a failure, likely mechanical.” He tapped another button. “It appears to be a fuel gage.”

“Then lead us down, Mister Spo— _ock_.”

The shuttle rocked and tilted, and I heard Bones and Droxine as they slid together and tumbled behind us.

“I have ascertained a safe landing area.”

“ _Great_ ,” I said with my jaw clenched, watching as we spiraled to the desert.

It was bumpy, but Spock is an excellent pilot—next to winning staring contests and spelling bees, you could say it’s his secret talent.

However, we landed in the shadow of a cliff and its mining caves—which posed its own problems.

Now, Stratos had those wonderful cities in the sky, but the ground below was just _awful_. Desert stretched in all directions, with the only refuge being the mining caves—which were also horrendous, but were rich with valuable minerals. This caused that caste system you were complaining about, as the city dwellers made the Troglytes stay below and do the dirty work. Stratos and its neighboring cloud cities got rich off of zenite, while the Troglytes suffered the effects of the zenite—altered brain chemistry and heightened aggression, which the cloud dwellers continuously denied.

But either way, the division of the Troglytes and the city dwellers was a massive cultural rift that tended to go violent. The enslaved Troglytes were definitely imprisoned in the dirty and dusty mines below, forced to live in deplorable conditions with their unresolved anger—anger that was taken out on anyone they came across.

So in short: We chose the _worst_ possible place to land.

“We must be careful,” Spock stated. “I have taken care to hide our shuttle, but they may have heard our landing.”

“Got it, Spock,” I said, hoping that no one heard anything at all.

I watched as Bones led Droxine towards the cliff wall—and man, was she _terrified_. Bones was careful with her, and Spock and I would protect her, of course. But no doubt she had heard stories her entire life, of how these cliffs held savages and promised certain death.

 

 **(** “But she knew that Vanna wasn’t a savage.”

Jim made a _so-so_ motion. “Well, Vanna was the exception. But now that Droxine was on her own, there was no reason to be sympathetic.”

“But if the Troglytes truly aren’t that different from the city dwellers, and it’s just that mineral—that’s awful.”

Jim nodded. “We thought so, too. But that’s a story in itself.” **)**

 

“You have no idea what you’re doing!” Droxine cried out. “We’re going to be _killed_.”

“Yeah? Well hopefully that’s enough motivation for Papa Plasus,” I said with some distraction, as Spock and I were staring up at the cliff face

We were both analyzing the distance—the _vast_ distance. It looked strenuous and completely vertical, with barely any ledges and rocks to hold onto.

I glanced at Spock. “You think?”

“If the Troglytes are in the mines, then perhaps they would not be on the higher surface.” Spock looked at his tricorder. “On the other hand, the surface is perilous with wildlife. It is unlike the mines and deserts below and is partially forested.”

I licked my lips. “Couldn’t you have landed a little higher, Spock?”

He sent a pointed glare my way. “We are lucky to have landed at all, Captain.”

Which was a good point—but that wall looked like it was going to _suck_.

“Let’s go hide in the trees, Spock,” I said regretfully, knowing that higher above might be safer than near the caves.

I looked at our pilfered supplies and saw that, unlike shuttlecrafts for the Federation, they didn’t have a survival kit that contained helpful things, like _ropes_. “I think we’ll have to use our hands for this one.”

I looked at Spock’s pale fingertips and mentally winced—Vulcan hands are incredibly sensitive and don’t take abrasion lightly. But at the same time we didn’t have gloves, and Spock was a professional.

Spock tilted his head, as if he knew what I was thinking. “I will be fine.”

“Yeah, _right_.” I looked inside our shuttle, and once I found the black hood I started ripping it into strips. “Here—“ I handed him a few, and then gave some to Bones and Droxine. “Wrap these around your hands—and around her feet. They’ll probably help with traction, too.”

“I am not climbing up this—“

“Oh, _yes_ you are.” At this point I was pretty done with Droxine. Your dad has more patience than anyone gives him credit for, as I would’ve chucked her out of the shuttlecraft hours ago.

“I will lead,” Spock determined, although I shook my head. “I can quickly determine—“

“Yeah, but you’re the strongest. If anyone slides you can hold them.” I looked up. “I’m a bit more agile, I can find the safest route.”

Spock wasn’t too happy about that, but I was right, and so he agreed. “As you wish.”

And let me tell you, it was a good thing I went up first. I mean, in Starfleet they give you a ton of training for these sorts of situations, but this wall was a _pain_. And without mountaineering equipment, it sucked like hell to only grip with your fingers on a tiny ledge and hope for the best.

Not to mention that halfway up Droxine got frightened out of her skin, so Spock had to carry her on his back. “Her weight is negligible.”

 _Then maybe she’ll float down_ , I wanted to say, but only kept climbing. Which, after I did a double-take of the ground below, I did faster.

“Spock, be careful.”

“I have noticed our assailant.”

And _that_ was something, as it was getting dark out and our new friend was wearing all black—kind of sexy. If, you know, he weren’t tailing us.

But our guy was by himself, so I still wasn’t too worried at that point. Not to mention that the Man in Black would have to find his own way up the wall—sans my help and in the dark.

“Christ Jim, was this really the greatest idea—“

“Too late now, Bones.” We were a third away from the ledge. “And stop looking down.”

“I can’t help it, that guy is _fast_.”

Sure enough, _I_ looked down and noticed the same. The guy was obviously part squirrel, as he seemed to double our time.

I wasn’t sure how great of a plan this was, but I looked down at Spock and said, “Pass her up.”

Spock only nodded, which meant he got the drift. If our new buddy caught up with him, then he could better fight him off without a chick on his back.

I scrambled below and we switched loads—Droxine keeping her eyes closed all the while—and then I managed to somehow get ahead again.

She was _not_ light. “You’re rather deceptive.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Stop choking me and try to help out. The sooner we get up there, the sooner you don’t have to worry about falling.”

“I liked your Vulcan better,” she sniffed.

“ _Same_ ,” I said and matched her glare. “Now just grip my shoulders and remain quiet.”

Which she did, thank God. And in about a half-hour we made it up to the cliff’s ledge and I was able to throw her off and to the ground.

I quickly turned around, because the entire time I hadn’t heard a peep from Spock. Plenty from your dad, of course, which meant he hadn’t tumbled off the cliff face himself. But I wondered if the Man in Black had caught up with us.

He hadn’t, but it looked like Spock would make it up here barely ahead of the Man in Black.

“Spock,” I called over the edge. “We’re going ahead. I’ll come back for you.”

Spock only nodded—he knew how it was. I hated leaving him, always, but duty came first. And getting Droxine to another location and away from this assailant had to _definitely_ be ahead on my to-do list. Spock knew this as well.

And so Bones and I dragged her off—after cuffing her again, of course. Too bad she didn’t have a mouth gag, as that would’ve been handy.

 

 **(** “Perhaps it would be adequate to exchange duties at this juncture.”

Joanna looked up at Spock, who had just joined them a few minutes before and seemed to catch on to what was happening.

Leonard harrumphed. “This should be a hoot.”

“Spock can tell a great story.” Jim nudged Spock with his elbow. “Give it a go. All I have after that is sneaking, sneaking, and some more sneaking.”

“You will have to tell that part of the mission shortly,” Spock stated, and then looked at Joanna. “However, I encountered the supposed ‘Man in Black’, first.”

“This should be exciting,” Leonard grumbled, and Spock shot him a look.

“It required some dexterity that I had not employed in quite a while.”

“Swashbuckling,” Jim said with a wicked grin. “Well, lay it on us, Spock.” **)**

 

Jim and Doctor McCoy escorted Droxine away from the immediate area as I climbed the last 200 meters of the rock face. I could hear our assailant behind me, making up an approximate three meters for every meter I traversed, leading to an unlikely possibility that I would reach the cliff’s ledge with any sort of advantage. The individual appeared agile and familiar with the terrain, which lent to the likelihood that our pursuer was of Troglyte descent, and would easily have knowledge of our surrounding area. Which gave my chances of success at near 33.57% in overcoming our—

 

 **(** “—Is there a problem, gentlemen?”

Leonard was snickering as Jim gave him a dirty look.

“No Spock, you’re doing _great_. Just, you know—get to the action?” **)**

 

The supposed ‘Man in Black’ reached the ledge and easily climbed over. While I hid behind a boulder, there appeared to be no sense in it. Our pursuer would know I was waiting, but I was hoping for a brief moment of surprise.

My vision had adjusted to the night, and thus I was able to faintly see the black silhouette. Which made three things suddenly apparent to me.

One, our pursuer was quite small in size, although athletic. While dressed entirely in black and masked to hide identity, their lithe frame and tied-back hair suggested they would use speed and agility to best me.

Two, they did not appear to possess any sort of weapon to defend themselves, which supported aspects of my first conclusion.

And three, they had highly developed senses or were trained specifically for this area, for they were able to ascertain my location quickly and forced me to reveal myself.

“Who are you?” I asked, as the Captain and I had been unable to formulate the likely possibilities ourselves.

They did not answer however, so I speculated to rouse a response. “You do not appear to be a government entity, as you are alone and unarmed.”

There was further silence. It was most peculiar. “What is your motivation for pursuing us?”

Instead of answering, they quickly reached into their boot and threw a knife at me—it was only through quick reflexes that I was able to dodge mere centimeters to the side.

I bent behind me to retrieve it. “Are you aware that your planet is a member of the Federation, and thus abides under regulations that prohibit—“

“I am well aware,” said my masked assailant—which made a fourth aspect obvious to me, as I found momentary safety behind another boulder.

“You are a woman,” I stated simply, as the tenor of her voice left no doubt.

“I am, at the moment, your enemy.”

As a dagger hissed past my right ear, I knew this would not be an easy opponent. While her gender may generally lead those to haughtily assume I could overtake her easily, I was unsure with her apparent agility and the unknown weaponry she appeared to after all possess.

I gripped the knife in my hand. “Are you from an organization that will not allow you to assert your identity?”

“I work for no one.”

With that, the game did begin—for I had been cornered out into the open, and thus had no choice but to defend myself by whatever means necessary.

On Stratos our phasers had been confiscated, as the cloud dwellers claimed to be a peaceful people. This was unfortunate, as no doubt I could have harmlessly unarmed my assailant with a low stun.

Instead I found a small boulder, and threw it in her direction—which garnered the response I expected, in that the Woman in Black rolled easily out of the way.

“If you cease your assault, I can assure you no retribution from the Federation—“

“You must be joking,” she stated as she strode up to my person with a dagger. “I have the upper hand. Why should I forfeit to you?”

“For the sake of peace, and for those of Stratos—“

“You have kidnapped the Princess for the sake of _peace_?” she spat, and then attempted to slice my throat.

I yanked at her wrists, but her arms were incredibly strong as she gripped my shoulder. The moment I was able to push her away I brought up the dagger, and our blades collided.

“I assure you, it is a matter of life or death for the citizens of Merak II. As par agreement with High Advisor Plasus—”

Another slice of our blades whipped through the air, and as she swung a wide arc I jumped backwards, my back against a boulder.

“If you honestly think he will hold up an agreement, you are a fool.”

And perhaps I was. For, in that moment, she let loose an assault of not only a dagger to distract my attention, but also a dense metal object that jarred an avalanche of minerals above me.

 

 **(** “And Spock got a literal knock on the head.”

“Your observation is technically accurate, although I sense you are referring to something else, Doctor.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Leonard held a tray near Joanna’s bedside, sliding a table onto her lap. “It’s been a few hours since you’ve eaten, so try to get this down.”

Joanna made a face. “I hate applesauce.”

“No, you don’t. You used to eat it all the time”

“When I was _five_.” Joanna took a spoon and stabbed into it. “Is there cinnamon sugar on it?”

Leonard looked incredibly smug. “You bet.”

Joanna hesitantly put the spoon to her lips as she watched Jim pat Spock on the head.

“She gave you a good bump, Spock.”

“With no lasting consequences.”

Joanna rolled her eyes. “Are you guys going to get mushy, or are you going to continue with the story?”

Jim pouted as Spock stood up and bowed his head. “I should go back to the bridge.”

“I’ll join you soon, but my part’s next.” Jim’s eyes slid over the Vulcan form as he pursed his lips. “Since you were out like a light for this part anyway, I guess it won’t make a difference if you miss my amazingness.”

“I will check in with you later, Joanna— _Jim_.” Spock gave an admonishing look before he retreated quickly out of Sickbay.

Joanna stabbed her applesauce again. “Okay, so the Man in Black is really a girl. What does she want?”

Jim took a deep breath, distracted a moment, before he turned his head with an easy smile. “You’ll see.” **)**

 

At this point, Bones and I had dragged Droxine across a half-kilometer of rocky terrain. It wasn’t easy, trying to get her to run—her cloth slippers were the most ridiculous things I’d ever seen, and they were tearing pretty badly. But I knew that the sooner we’d got her to safety, the sooner that those cloth shoes would be all we had to worry about.

And Spock, of course. But we’d all been in Starfleet long enough to not let that gnaw at us.

The rocks started the thin out, giving way to tall grasses and lush bushes. Up ahead there was a vague hint of a forest, a looming shadow in the darkness, and my mind was made up instantly the moment I saw it.

“I’ll stay here,” I said, waving them ahead. “In case Spock didn’t stop him, I need to be a distraction.”

“Jim, I can’t—“

“That’s an _order_ ,” I hissed between clenched teeth—although pulling rank on your dad always left me squicked. “Now _go_.”

Bones gave me a glare before dragging Droxine by the arm towards the forest in the distance. There were some straggler monuments and rock shelves that soon blocked them from my view—but at that point, I was willing to let them chance it in the forest than remain exposed in the open.

I found a shrub to hide behind, which still allowed some visibility of the path we had taken. Although my ears were open to any sound, I had no doubts that the Man in Black would try to be sneaky as well—not that I wouldn’t know he was there, and vice versa. But you took whatever edge you could get.

Eventually my heart sank when I saw the black figure and realized that something must’ve happened to Spock. But of course this only furthered my resolve to knock out this guy, who looked around keenly for anyone to appear.

I did my best to sneak behind another boulder to inch towards them—but they must’ve been part freaking _bat_. They heard the scuff of my boots on soil and threw what looked like a chakram in my direction.

I rolled behind a small boulder and glanced around hurriedly for whatever I could find. I was really kind of toast, as Stratos hadn’t allowed any weapons, and my phaser would’ve been _fantastic_ at that point.

“Who are you?” I yelled, and then forward-rolled to another shrub. “What did you do to Spock?”

The assailant came closer, and without thinking I jumped at their legs and knocked the Man in Black to the ground—who _obviously_ became the Woman in Black when I felt the shape of her body as she flipped me over.

“Fuck, you’re strong,” I said as I wrestled with her wrists above me—

 

 **(** “ _Jim_.”

“What? It’s what I said at the time.”

Leonard gave an aggrieved sigh as Jim rolled his eyes. **)**

 

“ _Geez_ , you’re strong,” I said as I wrestled with her wrists above me.

But she didn’t say a word as we tumbled in the grass, our legs flailing as we attempted to knock the other off. She struggled to pin arms above my head, and then I’d flip her to attempt the same. But we grunted and panted, our strengths uneasily matched yet complemented in agility, speed, and endurance. However my height won me out, with my longer limbs smacking her forearms to the ground as I straddled and pinned her hips with all my weight.

I glared at the masked eyes and growled, “ _What_ happened to Spock?”

She spat at me, and I turned my head in disgust.

“Look, lady—I don’t know what your agenda is, but you’re going to give it up right now, here and quick.”

Her legs lifted several times off the ground, with hips struggling, before she gave up in a huff.

I was pretty calm, as I get when I’m royally pissed and testy. “Who are you?”

She gave a frustrated hum before answering, “None of your concern.”

“Oh, I think it _is_ my concern. After all, you’ve been trailing us for the last few hours, and you’re out here by yourself. I need to know if Plasus has suddenly hired ninja assassins to take us out.”

She smirked. “You think he would hire a woman?”

“I think he would hire the best _person_ for the job.”

“And you think he would send one person out, when he has a latent army?”

“Yeah, see, that’s kind of the point.” I felt her hand try to slip my hold, so I pressed harder. “Plasus is insistent on the lack of violence and weaponry, so I’m wondering why he would even have a ninja assassin employed in the first place.”

“That is a conundrum,” she conceded.

“Then you understand my dilemma.”

“I understand it, but do not sympathize.”

I pursed my lips. “Fair enough.”

Then she went full blast to throw me off, and I have to confess it took all my strength to keep her pinned as her limbs flailed.

“Look, I’ll let you go once you’ve answered a few questions!” I said breathlessly, trying to remain straddling and taut all at once.

She _laughed_ at me. “Ask your questions.”

I gritted my teeth at her arrogance. “First, who are you?”

She took a breath, then, “I am the Dread Pirate V.”

I raised my brows. “A _pirate_?”

She huffed, as if I were questioning the obvious. “I am a pirate who overthrows the air ships of mineral, in protest of the Troglyte enslavement.”

“How forward-minded of you. But how does that make you a pirate?”

“We ransom the mineral.”

I rolled my eyes. “How humanistic of you.”

“It is not only about enslavement, but proper reparation for the suffering they have wrought,” she said with a sneer. “Stratos does nothing for the welfare of the Troglytes.”

“Well, let me tell you something,” I resisted the urge to flex fingers, despite the protests all my muscles were giving me. “I tried to give an advantage to the Troglytes with air masks to combat the zenite and mining conditions, but they wouldn’t listen to me.”

“Because air masks will not do _anything_ but make it more ‘reasonable’ to keep us below!”

With that, I realized instantly that I had shifted my pelvis amidst her wiggling, and unintentionally allowed a well-aimed knee to kick me off.

“Shi- _Shoot frick darn_ ,” I groaned, grabbing myself with one hand while trying to fight her off with the other.

But the truth was I didn’t roll quickly enough, and with a quick smack of her elbow I was pretty much out.

 

 **(** Jim puffed his cheeks in _ho hum_ acquiescence as Leonard looked at him in amusement.

“I can’t believe she took you out that easily.”

Jim deflated with a huff. “Neither can I.” He glanced at Joanna. “She was really strong though, just saying.”

Joanna only hummed an _uh-huh_ around her spoon as Jim glanced at the chronometer.

“Your turn, Bones,” he said regretfully. “I should check on the bridge or something.”

“Gladly,” Leonard said, still amused from minutes before.

Jim walked to Joanna’s bedside , angling his fingers like a gun and pointing them playfully. “Be back in a few hours, Joey—don’t go anywhere.”

Joanna rolled her eyes at the joke, and Jim looked between her and next of kin.

“ _Definitely_ know where she got that from,” he grinned, and then retreated quickly out of Sickbay from her father’s grumbling.

He harrumphed for good measure, then leaned towards the biobed. “He’s impossible.”

“No kidding,” Joanna agreed, letting spoon hit empty applesauce container before setting it aside.

Leonard spared it a quick glance, before asking for the millionth time, “How are ya feeling, kiddo?”

She gave him a _look_ with that title, but he only shot one back until she was forced to sigh and give up. “Okay.”

“No nausea or dizziness?”

“I feel _fine_. Just like I did an hour ago.”

He nodded as he checked the chronometer. “Good. But you still have ten and a half hours to go.”

She groaned, then felt a pat on her blanketed knee.

“Now pay attention, because this is a good part.” **)**

 

Leaving Jim was never my favorite idea. But I’d been on enough missions to trust that him and Spock would be all right—although their martyr instinct always left something to be desired. But we all knew what we had to do, and I tried my best to keep Droxine safe.

Now, Jim made a huge deal of her, but truthfully I thought her attitude was understandable. After all, we had kidnapped her from what was supposed to be a big deal of a marriage, where the diplomatic idea of her uniting two clouds whose relations had always been distant, at best, must have been an honor. So naturally she was a little _peeved_ at what was happening.

"You'll never get away with this!" she kept yelling as she stumbled over the terrain, and I had to agree with her once we reached the wide forest and saw our limited options.

If I were Jim or Spock, I might've chanced the dense and dark woods before us. But instead—lacking any sort of weapon that would've guaranteed Droxine's safety, at least—I decided to veer us to the left and around. Which was more open field that made us visible to the eye, but at least we wouldn’t be eaten by some Ardana _bear_.

“You’ll never escape!” she spat. “Prince Cirrus is a powerful man, and he’ll come searching for me.”

“Have you ever really met this guy?” I asked as I carefully dragged her by the arm, maneuvering her around a bush so it wouldn’t catch her dress.

She looked down her nose at me, her blonde countenance adding to the icy and haughty glare. “His stories are well known.”

“Well, let me tell ya something.” I pulled us behind a sharp and jagged shale wall. “Some people don’t live up to their legends.”

“He will find me. Prince Cirrus loves me and he’ll try to get me back.”

“That’s kind of the point,” I mumbled as I leaned us against the grassy ledge behind the shale wall. I looked down at her feet, the slippers dirty with tears and holes, now barely held together by the strips of cloth Jim had given us earlier. “How are you doing?”

“How do you _think_?” she hissed. And all right, I guess I was asking for it.

Jim—or the Man in Black—would only be a few minutes behind. My plan was to wait for either outcome, and hopefully be missed if it were the latter.

I took those minutes to observe the terrain around us. I hadn’t noticed much before we landed, too busy with Droxine cursing and struggling. But it was strange to see so much desert while high in the air, and then come across this long rock shelf that was teeming with greenery and life. It likely meant there were life sources in the caves below us, considering the deserts probably hadn’t seen much rain in a while. But I also couldn’t see the deserts from where we stood—which hinted at how truly long and wide the surface was. It had plenty of space to get lost in—and certainly plenty of space to hide for ransom

But with the approaching scuffing of boots on dirt, that goal would certainly be made much harder.

I looked around the rock face, and I could barely see the figure in the distance. As you know by now it was night out, the darkness barely pierced by a full moon, and so there was a part of my chest that leapt with the hope of it being Jim. But as the figure drew closer, a fist clenched around my heart—it was the Man in Black, and I had _no_ idea at that point what to do about him.

Now, maybe some would think I should’ve handed Droxine over at that point. After all, I was defenseless—although I was in pretty good shape for my age, really—but I still had nothing to fight back with. I wasn’t a black belt in martial arts like Spock, or a former instructor in combat training like Jim. I knew the basics from Starfleet, sure—but so had they, and Jim and Spock had apparently been defeated. So what chance, then, did I have?

If I handed her over, perhaps the Man in Black would allow me to care for Jim and Spock, whatever their states were at that point. From there we could devise some other strategy to find the zenite for Merak II.

But on the other hand—we had kidnapped a helpless Princess, with no intentions whatsoever to harm her. Maybe it’s just my upbringing, but I would never just leave her—or _anybody_ —to their own defenses, when I’m the one who had got them there in the first place.

So my intent was to hide us. Maybe the Man in Black wouldn’t realize there was shallow density to the shale ledge, and he would just pass us by. It was a far-fetched hope, and one made more impossible when Droxine starting yelling.

“Over here—help me!”

Okay, so maybe Jim had the right idea about her, after all.

“Are you out of your royal _mind_?” I hissed, but she was having none of it. She broke my light grasp and ran out from behind the rock.

“Over here!” she yelled, and—all right, I _was_ fuming with the quick-thinkingness I had to suddenly employ for no damn good reason.

And of course the Man in Black saw us and came running forward.

“You think he’s your _friend_? For all you know, he wants to kidnap you, too—and not be nice about it, like us!”

“This is _nice_?” Droxine huffed a humorless laugh. “I think I’ll take my chances!”

But her hands were still cuffed, so she didn’t have much choice when I put her behind me as the Man in Black approached us.

I started walking us backwards as the black form stopped in front of us, stance wide as if ready for whatever we planned.

“Look, we want no trouble now—“

“Funny, as you bring about the opposite with abducting royalty.”

And okay, Droxine and I both straightened at that, as the voice was _definitely_ feminine.

See, what Jim and Spock neglected to tell you, was that the figure was short, sure, but rather stocky. And in this light, if she had obvious breasts, they were hard to detect with the loose and billowing black blouse she wore. For all I know her form was incredibly obvious in the day, but camouflaged perfectly in the lack of light.

“We don’t mean any harm.”

“Again, funny, as you just dragged a defenseless Princess across treacherous terrain for no real reason.”

I steeled my expression. “Listen, we have thousands dependent on that mineral—“

The Woman in Black tilted her head. “Regrettable, then, that you will not obtain the resources to attend to them.”

I frowned. “What are you referring to?”

“You shall not have the Princess at your disposal—and with your age, it is quite possible I might kill you in the process. It does put a damper on your plans.”

I backed us up further. “Now hold on a second, if you think I’m letting you take her without a fight—“

“I suspect nothing of the sort.” And boy, was this baiting game awfully familiar from a Vulcan we both know. “But I must confess, I expect this victory to be hollow. Unlike your companions, who fought me with great skill, this will be quick. Very disappointing.”

I swallowed at the insinuation—I wasn’t _that_ old—but then I tried to put myself in Jim’s shoes for a second, as dangerous as that usually was. How would he take advantage of this confession? Did Jim or Spock even get to _talk_ to the Woman in Black before she passed them?

“Well,” and I refrained from blurting out the obvious question about my friends, and instead stated, “then let’s… not fight. Let’s do something that evens the odds.”

And okay, did I dearly wish that same Vulcan was there to help me out, now.

But the Woman in Black looked between us and Droxine, tilting her head curiously. “Needless bloodshed _is_ a shame… very well. I will choose the method, and you will choose the metaphorical weapon.”

Oh, that sounded _great_. What had I gotten myself into?

The Woman in Black looked around us and spotted a tall, yet flat-topped boulder. “We will sit there.”

I didn’t let my eyes off the Woman in Black as she strode towards it, and I tightened my grip on Droxine behind me. I theory, I suppose we could’ve run—but there was a large hill next to us, and that seemed pointless when dragging another person behind me. No doubt we’d make five steps, and then the Woman in Black would’ve tripped us both to fall down and surrender.

So as we all sat at the makeshift table, my mind was spinning. “Well?”

“You are the physician on the _Enterprise_ , correct?”

Well, that hinted at an awful lot. “How did you know that?”

She looked me up and down. “Your mannerisms are much like the medicine healers.”

I looked down at myself—I had no idea what she was talking about, until she looked over at Droxine.

“They left her in your care. As you are not the strongest, therefore you must have other knowledge of use. Considering her feet are bound, and the way you carefully maneuvered her over the terrain, I would say you are more concerned for her safety than your fighting companions.”

“Jim and Spock care,” I blurted, although she had a point. Jim’s job was always to figure out a solution, while Spock was observant for details. I just hung out in the background in case anyone needed to be fixed up.

Despite our proximity, the black mask offered nothing of what the Woman in Black was truly thinking. Her green eyes only looked calm and stoic, and nothing more. She was likely plotting our demise, or she could’ve been genuinely interested in my answer.

I sighed. “All right, you got me.”

Her eyes flickered to the table’s edge near us as she said, “Then you have supplies with you, do you not?”

I narrowed my eyes. “I have the med kit from the shuttle—if you need help, you don’t need to make a game of it.”

“On the contrary, I was thinking this game would be to your advantage.” She watched as I brought the med kit to the table. “There should be two vials. One is red and a stabilizer, and one is blue and a sedative for pain. Reveal the blue.”

The med kit was a black box with latches, and as I lifted the lid I saw a blue vial next to red, filled with liquid. I held the sapphire bottle between two fingers, trying to catch a glow from moonlight.

“I have a vial with similar characteristics.” She unfolded her palm, and the blue liquid did look the same. “We will play a shell game with both of our medicines. Whoever receives the right dose, wins.”

Oh, I did _not_ like the sound of that. “Look, if any of us are in disrepair—“

“Or I could fight you to the death.” She tilted her head. “Which will it be?”

Now, there was a part of me wondering why she just didn’t take the easy route. I didn’t buy this “disappointment” argument one bit. But at the same time she was right—not fighting _was_ to my advantage.

My mind raced at what would be in her vial. “If I have a sedative, what have you got?”

The Woman in Black held it between her fingertips, watching my expression. She put it purposefully in the moonlight—and damn, it even _glowed_ the same as the sedative.

“It is convenient for you that I carry this chemical for emergencies. It is a stimulant.” She placed it in the center of our table. “Ardana receives it through our trade routes, and I have stolen it the same way.”

I bit my lip—it looked _incredibly_ like animazine. If this had been the right lighting, I would be able to see a yellow-green sheen on its surface. Animazine _was_ a popular drug on the trade routes—it was even passed around at Starfleet Academy during finals week. It was non-addictive and pretty harmless.

So on the surface, while this seemed to be my only option, maybe it was a beneficial one. If I kept my head straight, it was possible that I could take the stimulant and be able to carry Droxine out of there— _if_ , of course, the drug was truly what the Woman in Black said it was and wouldn’t overwhelm and kill me.

Except the people of Stratos weren’t unlike humans in composition, and this was a smaller woman. If _she_ could handle a human drug—or this drug in particular—I would bet with my body mass that I could handle it, as well.

So I nodded. “All right.” I placed my vial on the stone surface. “How will this go?”

“Very simple, Doctor. I will turn around, and you may arrange the vials in any way you see fit. Once you are ready I will face you, and I will pick the vial to dose myself. You will inject me with a hypo, and we will exchange devices so I may inject you with the remaining vial.” She gestured to them. “As you already know, both take a minute to garner effect, so it is truly a game of chance.”

I’ll be damned, it was. “And then the losing party is summarily knocked out?”

She nodded. “Precisely.”

I looked over at Droxine, who was glancing between the both of us uneasily. I couldn’t imagine what would happen to her if I was knocked out. What were this woman’s interests in her?

“Okay,” I said, although I needed to know one thing. “Can I ask you a question?”

“By all means, since it might be your last.”

I huffed. “I just need to know if you harbor ill will towards the Princess, here.” I tilted my head towards Droxine. “I just ask that you treat her with respect, as she didn’t ask to be dragged into any of this.”

The Woman in Black flicked a glance at the blonde beside me and pursed her lips. “Admirable of you. And I can assure you, I mean no harm towards the Princess.”

Not that I took anyone’s word outright, but it was nice to know that death wasn’t on the immediate agenda. “Well, whenever you’re ready.”

She nodded, and then turned her body so she was sitting away from us, on her knees. I watched carefully at the back of her, trying to figure out what the game was.

Look, I wasn’t stupid enough to think she would be _fair_ with this. There had to be a trick up her sleeve—I just didn’t know what it was yet.

But the dark head was still turned away from us, not moving an inch, not appearing to cheat. She was silent as I stared at the vials—maybe she was listening for movement, maybe not.

I frowned at blue vials—what would Spock do? Would he have even taken a gamble like this in the first place? It was too late, now. But besides that, there was a bit of Human psychology involved, too—would Spock even have the right answer?

I had to go with my gut instinct on this one. Everything was purely by chance and my wits.

I looked at the back of the covered head of red hair, where a pony tail peeked from underneath a black bandana. The Woman in Black _was_ listening— _should_ be listening. So I should use that to my advantage. She would know from the clinking of glass whether I had kept the stimulant in front of her, or the sedative in front of me. Or perhaps how many times I’d switch that around, eventually leaving it exactly how we started.

But on the other hand—what if she figured that I’d overanalyze things? I was one of the few trained doctors for the crew, after all, and I also doubled as the ship’s psychologist. Maybe she would realize I didn’t want to move things at all, and would wager that I’d try to psych her out.

Although she _was_ a survivalist—would I psych her out? Unlikely.

I glanced at Droxine and then went with my gut. I kept the vials in the same place, except I spun them around to appear different, making a few noises.

This was it—I’d made my move. “I’m ready.”

The Woman in Black turned around and peered at me curiously. It was then that I also realized to school my expressions—no doubt she could figure out which is which, simply from my face alone.

But instead she let her fingers hover over the vials, not even glancing in my direction—and picked the vial directly in front of me.

I felt my heart leap into my throat. “That one?”

“Unless you advise another, Doctor,” she said and coyly smiled.

I couldn’t trust myself to brave an answer as I got the hypo out. I took the vial from her fingers, uneasy with what was about to happen—but at the same time, I knew what I had to do.

I loaded it as she rolled up her sleeve. “Time is of the essence,” she stated.

I let the hypo hiss and then handed it to her.

She rolled down her sleeve as she easily loaded the other vial for me.

I took a deep breath as I glanced at Droxine—I wondered if maybe she’d shut up and appreciate me, once she knew she didn’t have to walk anymore.

I heard the hypo hiss, and then the Woman in Black laid it in the middle of the table.

“I apologize,” I stated. “I hope the sedative does no ill effect to you.”

“As I wish the same for you, Doctor.”

And then I felt my body fall helplessly backwards as I blacked out.

 

 **(** “She switched it on you somehow?” Joanna said, her mouth gaping in surprise.

Leonard grimaced. “Actually, it’s a bit more technical than that.” He looked up and then nodded at their visitor. “I’m sure Nyota can divulge that bit.”

“Oh, are we at the good part?” She leaned over to kiss Joanna’s forehead before dragging a chair closer to the biobed. “Jim told me he was telling this one. Since he’s delayed with some reports on the bridge, I offered to come down and help out.”

“Be my guest.” Leonard said as he glanced at a chronometer and got out of the chair. “And it looks like you’ve got about nine hours left, Joey.”

Joanna groaned as Nyota patted a blanketed leg.

“We’re at some good stuff, I promise.”

Joanna gave Nyota a wary look as Leonard left her area, shaking his head with quiet amusement. **)**


	2. Misunderstandings

Droxine had the same question as you did. After all, she had been witness to the entire exchange, and saw that you father hadn’t switched a thing.

As the Woman in Black untied her hands, Droxine stared at the scene, flabbergasted. “I don’t understand. When did you switch—?”

The Woman in Black shook her head. “As you might be aware, _Princess_ —when Troglytes servants are first brought down to the caves, it is against their will. The city dwellers must constantly sedate their slaves in order make them obey orders and follow law. By the time they have adapted to the sedative their wills are already broken, and it is no longer needed.” The Woman in Black held out a hand. “My will may not be broken, but my tolerance is great.”

Droxine gaped at the outstretched hand. “Excuse me? I have no idea what information you’ve received, but the Troglytes are perfectly content when they go into the mines. There is no need for such a sedative.“

The Woman in Black laughed. “Trust me, I have more knowledge in this area than you do.”

Droxine straightened. “As the future co-ruler of Cirrus and Stratos, I am well aware how my subjects—“

The Woman in Black roughly grabbed her by the arm and started moving them towards the hill. “I have no patience for your propaganda.”

“It isn’t propaganda. Everybody knows that the miners are of lower intelligence, and they like the repetitive work in the mines. They wouldn’t know what to do with the intellectual pursuits of Stratos, for instance.”

“Quite funny how you’ve reached that conclusion, as you’ve never given the miners exposure to those ‘intellectual pursuits’ in the first place.”

Droxine tried to grab her arm away as she was dragged up the hill. “They simply wouldn’t appreciate them.”

“Again, the Troglytes have never been introduced, so you have _no_ idea—“

Droxine yanked out of her grasp, only to stumble against a boulder. “This is _nonsense_. Starfleet was right—you’re no better!”

The Woman in Black tilted her head. “Care to elaborate with more falsehoods and stereotypical nonsense, Princess?”

Droxine puffed her chest. “That’s not what I’m doing.”

“Truly? Because everything you have stated is just one lie that has been repeated often enough— _so_ often, that you cannot even substantiate with your own facts.”

“I can too!”

The Woman in Black strode dangerously forward. “Name one!”

Droxine took a deep breath. “I have had servants all my life that were Troglytes.”

“Is that so.”

Droxine nodded to herself. “Yes. And having dealt with them in that manner, I can assure you they were surrounded by the arts, which they had no appreciation for.”

“Oh, they were all too _below_ you,” The Woman in Black stated disdainfully.

Droxine raised her chin. “Not all.”

“Not all? Oh, pray tell, what lucky soul was apparently good enough to be an equal to you, _Princess_?”

Droxine turned away. “It wasn’t like that. One of them… she was my friend.”

There was moment of silence, before the Woman in Black urged, “Go on. What was so special about this friend?”

Droxine took a deep breath. “She was… patient. And kind.”

The Woman in Black made a soft, scoffing noise. “Kindness must be in no shortage for you, Princess.”

Droxine spun around. “How _dare_ you! She was—Vanna was—she was more than just _kind_. She understood things, she was adventurous—she was braver than I was. More imaginative, more—“ Droxine swallowed thickly. “She was more _everything_. Everything I couldn’t be.”

The Woman in Black took a deep breath. “There are things a Princess can’t be? This is news to me.”

Droxine spared her a glare. “Mock all you want. But Vanna had the grandest capacity for love—to see beyond the labels of what everyone was.” Droxine glanced at the ground. “She saw me for _me_. Not for the title I had, or the silks I owned, or the paintings I possessed. She only wanted to hear my voice to hear _me_ sing, not to listen politely for the _Princess_.” Droxine hissed the last, letting it sit on her tongue.

Droxine, heavy with memory, leaned against a rock as the Woman in Black paced slowly in front of her.

“What happened to this servant of yours?” The Woman in Black eventually asked.

Droxine’s eyes closed a moment before she admitted, “She was sent to the mines.”

“Of which you were powerless to stop.”

“I had no _choice_.” Droxine said between tight lips. “All servants are sent to the mines at a certain age. No matter how much… we care for them.”

The Woman in Black huffed a laugh. “And you cared?”

Droxine gritted her teeth and glared. “Are you _blind_? Deaf? Heartless? Is it not apparent to you how much I _loved_ her? How I speak of her hallowed memory with much reverence and regret?”

“What _do_ you regret?” The Woman in Black demanded. “That you eventually forgot about her, despite your supposed devotion?”

Droxine glared with determination. “ _Never._ ”

The two shared a fierce look, before the Woman in Black countered with, “Then why are you marrying the Prince of Cirrus?”

Droxine arrowed a haughty glance. “If I can’t be with the one I love, I will do what’s best for my city, for the people of Stratos.”

The Woman in Black didn’t seem to know what to make of that, as she paced a moment—back and forth, back and forth—while Droxine watched. But eventually the woman ticked a finger in Droxine’s direction.

“I believe I know this servant you speak of.”

Droxine shook her head. “I doubt it. She would never consort with the likes of you.”

The Woman in Black raised an eyebrow. “How do you figure?”

“She was honorable.”

The Woman in Black looked flustered a moment, before stating, “Well, what do you _think_ happened to your beloved servant?”

Droxine took a moment, before answering quietly, “I don’t know. She… she promised to come back for me, and— “ Droxine tucked a strand of hair behind an ear. “There were a few tunnel collapses where Troglytes were killed.” Her breath hitched. “After five years, I assumed her among the dead.”

The Woman in Black swallowed thickly. “I am sure I know this Vanna you speak highly of.”

Droxine gave her a detached glance. “How are you be so certain?”

The Woman in Black clasped hands together as she paced. “In one of the mine collapses you no doubt heard of, it was caused by a rebel group called the Dread Pirates.”

Droxine shook her head. “I have never heard of them.”

“They are called the Disrupters among your people.”

At that, Droxine glanced up with dawning awareness. “You—you are in this group?”

The Woman in Black nodded. “When we entered into the mines, we took with us the young and the ill.” The woman sucked in her lower lip. “I believe your Vanna was a member of both.”

Droxine’s eyes widened in alarm. “And?”

“Since the city dwellers do not provide adequate medical care for the Troglytes—“ The Woman in Black put out a hand to silence the protest, “We take them to our underground headquarters, where they are treated by our healers.

“I make it a point to visit and speak with everyone we rescue. And I clearly remember one red-haired individual, lying on her death bed, who spoke insistently with me about someone she… cared deeply about.”

The Woman in Black had stopped pacing, just as a pale hand rested at the base of Droxine’s throat in anticipation.

The Woman in Black watched the ground, as if seeing a scene played from memory. “She said that while she would not miss the mines, there was one person she lived for and missed the most. Someone she had promised to see again, and love always, and rescue from her gold-gilded cage. Someone that had made the days worth fighting for, in only to see her again…” The Woman in Black trailed off, before snapping back to attention. “She spoke of someone of incredible beauty, and not only of the physical, but also the mental and spiritual. Someone who had a hidden heart that loved deeply, especially for her city. That her misguided nature was not of heartlessness, but only of ignorance.”

The Woman in Black raised her eyes slowly, meeting Droxine’s raptured gaze. “You say that Vanna was brave. So isn’t it ironic, that the only thing she was ever afraid of was never seeing you again? In a way, perhaps you could say she died living her fear.”

Droxine’s chest heaved. “It was my worst nightmare. It is, and remains so.”

The Woman in Black bit a lip, then, “And yet you still marry someone else.”

“Because I _have_ to.”

The Woman in Black huffed a laugh. “Really?”

“Yes, _really_. It is my duty to maintain the best interests of my kingdom. “

The woman shook her head. “Then perhaps it is better that your Vanna died, so she would not have to be put through the heartbreak of your _duty_.”

Droxine gasped before she angrily marched forward. “How _dare_ you.”

“No, Princess—how dare _you_ for throwing away love so easily.”

Droxine was mere inches from the masked face before growling, “I _died_ the day of the mine collapse. What you see now is a mere puppet, a pawn in this political game where I can supposedly do some good. So—so—“ she bunched her fists. “So pardon _me_ if I will take the only purpose I have left and use it _for my city!_ ”

And with that Droxine pushed with all her might, sending the stunned Woman in Black tumbling backwards down the expanse of hill they had just climbed.

As she tumbled in the darkness, Droxine could hear a broken, “ _As—you—wish!_ ”

A hand flew to Droxine’s mouth as she searched the darkness below her. “Oh God, oh God— _Vanna_? What have I done?”

And without a moment’s hesitation she threw herself to the ground and tumbled downwards—up and over in the same direction—until she landed at the bottom and hit a softness with an _oof_.

Droxine felt for the masked face in the darkness, before ripping it off to reveal the face underneath—more angular with age, but with the same green eyes and coral lips that she remembered so long ago, so long ago from kissing.

“ _Vanna_ ,” Droxine reverently whispered. “You came for me.”

Vanna’s emerald eyes opened and focused on the pale face, her lips slowly forming into an amused smile. “I told you I would—why did you not wait for me?”

Droxine searched the face she loved so dearly before answering, “I… I thought you were dead.”

Vanna reached up to gently tuck a loose blonde strand. “Princess, death cannot stop true love. It might only delay it for a while.” Her hand rested on the back of the neck. “And even death cannot delay what never ends.”

Droxine bit her lip, trying to hold back a flood of regrets, before whispering, “I’m so sorry. I promise never to doubt again.”

“And I promise there will never be any need.” And with that, Vanna brought Droxine down for a long-awaited and searing kiss, where their mouths tangled and tasted and remembered what had been before—

 

 **(** Joanna sighed. “Jim said there wasn’t a lot of kissing.”

Nyota stopped mid-sentence and gave a shocked expression, before Spock cleared his voice.

“Indeed. There are elements of romance, but it is not the main purpose of the tale.”

Nyota shook her head in disbelief. “Such _romantics_ , both of you.”

Spock looked at her calmly. “I will be able to accurately disperse the account from here, if you need repose.”

Nyota checked the chronometer. “And unfortunately, I do—not for sleeping, anyway. Too many reports on my desk.” She gave a small smile to Joanna as she stood up, patting a blanketed foot as she passed the biobed. “Feel better, sweetie.”

“I already feel _fine_ ,” Joanna groaned, but Nyota only gave her a patient look before she left.

And once she left—it was incredibly silent. Looking at the gray Sickbay chairs, Joanna noticed there was only Spock. Which wasn’t the worst thing, as he _did_ have a succinctness that Joanna could appreciate.

“Spock, how much time do I have left?”

“You have been in Sickbay for a total of four hours and 32 minutes. As for the remaining length of your hospital stay—“ he looked to the side ruefully, an almost human expression. “Unknown, considering the variables.”

Joanna gave him a wan smile. She could certainly deal with somebody that honest. “Okay, Commander Spock— _shoot_.”

He may have raised an eyebrow at that statement, but he also opened his mouth to continue the tale. **)**

 

Although Vanna and Droxine had not seen each other in years, their rapport was instant in the moment they properly identified one another. Which was fortunate, as their reunion was short-lived, due to an unexpected visitor in their midst.

“What is this—“ Vanna broke relations and watched the sky. “I believe I hear airships.”

Droxine looked up, and in that moment felt a hand tugging her upward.

“Come with me—I have an inkling who this airship belongs to.”

And despite Droxine’s loyalty to duty moments before, she did not hesitate in following. Rather they both ran in tandem as they reached the end of the forest, and without thinking plunged into the unknown wilderness.

“Stick with me,” Vanna said as she brought out a short-sword. “This could get interesting.”

Droxine looked between her and the thinning edge of the forest. “You mean—“

“Quicksand? Fissures? The rodents of unusual size?” Vanna shrugged a she sliced through dense thicket. “Perhaps. Although I do not believe they exist.”

Droxine appeared more unsure but remained in close vicinity, which only prompted Vanna to grasp her by the waist as they maneuvered forward.

“Trust me,” she breathlessly stated. “You are safe with me.”

And at that moment, they narrowly avoided a gust of scalding steam letting loose from the mining activities below.

 

 **(** “Commander Spock, I have a question.”

He gave Joanna an appraising look before solemnly saying, “I will do my best to answer.”

“Did the Stratos government have any idea where Droxine might have been taken? Or were they going to directly blame Starfleet?” Joanna furrowed her brows. “ _Why_ didn’t they just directly blame Starfleet and get you guys in trouble?”

Spock _hmmed_ in approval. “An astute observation, but it assumes information I have not stated. While we were aware of our actions possibly being sent to Starfleet, we had also sent a missive explaining our lack of progress. This mission had to be successful under any means necessary, however unorthodox, to ensure the welfare of Merak II—their botanical plague was potentially catastrophic.”

“But why didn’t the High Advisor just contact the _Enterprise_ —or why didn’t you guys just beam up here?”

“The first will be answered in due time. But to your last question—we wished to separate our actions from the rest of the ship.” Spock’s glance went to his lap. “The Captain’s methods are… unusual. While frequently effective, he does not like to rope unwilling participants.”

“ _You_ guys would only get in trouble,” Joanna said quietly, in secret admiration.

To be daring like that—a _rebel_ —she knew Jim would do that in a heartbeat. And Spock was the first Vulcan in Starfleet, so rebel was already written between the lines of his biography. But it was something she never thought about when it came to Leonard. He was supposed to be some old-fashioned doctor, someone who followed rules by the book. Yet this was sort of… brave and loyal. Something her mother had never quite mentioned when speaking about him.

“However, if I may—I would like to continue the story from our last whereabouts?”

Joanna snapped out of her ponderings. “But there was _finally_ exciting stuff happening with Droxine and Vanna.”

If Vulcans could look amused, Joanna was certain she was seeing it. “I will divulge more on their circumstances, eventually.” **)**

 

At that juncture however, I had remained buried in a pile of shale for approximately two hours. But when I awoke, it was to a welcome sound of a familiar individual. 

“Spock! _Spock!_ ,” Jim called as his hands threw off one rock after another, and shoved the smaller pieces aside. “Please tell me you’re still alive under there."

I confess it was a struggle to conjure a response, as the dust had coated my sinuses and required a moment to loosen the remnants covering my throat. Fortunately, Jim heard my coughing and hurried his procedure.

“God Spock, you sound _awful_.”

I continued coughing until my head was free of the rubble and could breathe oxygen with less allergens and contaminants. I was not overly cognizant of my surroundings until my arm was pulled, dragging me from the shale.

Jim expressed some colorful sentiments, and then, "Are you okay? Anything broken?"

It took a moment, but eventually my senses processed the rest of my body.

"My lungs are not inhaling at peak capacity, but otherwise I am well."

Again, his language was colorful. But I ignored it, as I needed to inquire on more pressing matters.

"Were you able to stop our assailant?"

I noticed that he was alone before he even shook his head.

"Where are Droxine and Doctor McCoy?"

"Well, Bones is taking a nap."

I narrowed my gaze in suspicion. "What has happened?"

“I sent them ahead while I tried to fight her off.” He gave me a look. “We’ve been duped, big time. She resoundedly kicked my behind, and then somehow put his to sleep.”

Jim gestured with his head, and I took that as the signal that it was. We both started running forwards, with Jim taking the lead.

After we made some distance, I staggered out, “And he was alone?”

“Unfortunately—God Spock, when I first saw him on the ground like that, all rough angles and bent like a ragdoll, I thought my best friend was dead.”

“Have you searched his med kit?”

Jim nodded as we slowed to a jog in the grassy terrain, and he caught his breath. “His sedative is empty.” He gritted his teeth. “I don’t know how she did it, but she used his damn meds to knock him out. Who knows how potent it was.”

“Is he in a safe location now?”

“Yeah—you’ll see, soon enough.”

The distance we traveled was not more than three kilometers, which felt incredibly short for a getaway considering my distraction, and then Jim’s. But remembering how quickly my questioning had ended, it was not unlikely that Jim had met a similarly quick fate.

“We wrestled a bit and then she kicked me in the nuts.” Jim winced. “When I was down, she snuffed me out—and quickly, too. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was a hunter or some trained assassin.”

“We have encountered stranger things.”

“Yeah, but assassins are usually not at the top of _my_ list—especially with all the various races we’ve discovered.”

We reached a hillock bordered by a rock wall, and I immediately sensed that Jim had hidden Doctor McCoy behind it. Which was logical, considering the open field that offered a lack of protection.

We rounded the corner to where McCoy appeared to still be sleeping on an incline of grass. While it was disturbing to not know all the factors of his unconsciousness, it was mildly reassuring to notice no physical marks upon his person.

“It appears there was no struggle.”

“She didn’t hesitate to punch our lights out. I wonder why she took pity on Bones.”

I saw Jim move a lock of hair from his forehead as I tried to formulate the best scenario.

“Our assassin may have a moral code.”

“Not for my nuts.” Jim sat cross-legged and laid the doctor’s head in his lap. “Well, what are we going to do? We’ve lost our hostage, and we’re no closer to getting supplies for Merak II. In fact, I might have screwed us over, big time.”

I sat beside him, my legs bent at an angle. “Then we must try to make our position amenable, once again.” A plan pieced itself together in my mind, yet I hesitated to state it directly. But when Jim looked at me expectantly, I decided our desperate position could lead us to desperate measures.

“We must now rescue our abducted charge.”

Jim narrowed his eyes. “So kidnap Droxine, so we can go back to kidnapping Droxine?”

“It is quite likely that the High Advisor will be more concerned about her current abductor and might possibly blame the Troglytes. Therefore, we can present ourselves—“

“No go. I’m not going to make their lives worse by pointing blame at them.”

“It is quite possible our assailant is a member of that faction, and therefore they are truly to blame.”

Jim shook his head in irritation. “No, Spock. She told me she was the Dread Pirate V—that she was from a rebel faction trying to overthrow Troglyte enslavement. She may _be_ a Troglyte, but she’s not one of _those_ guys suffering in the mines.”

Jim’s information was interesting, as it brought to mind many new complications. “If she is not a working Troglyte in the mines, then that suggests she is a member of a different class which Starfleet is unaware of.”

“It’s a political group—at least, that’s how she made it sound.” Jim sighed as he looked down at McCoy and playfully patted his cheek. “I guess our best option is to follow them and see what happens. I’m all for rescuing Droxine if she needs it, but we _won’t_ blame someone else. That’ll make matters ten times worse—especially with these supposed pirates.”

“I am in agreement.” I stood up and brushed debris from my clothing, then glanced at the doctor. “I will carry McCoy.”

I could tell Jim wanted to protest, but we both knew my strength would make the journey faster, as opposed to the pride in wanting to take care of our friend.

“All right. Hopefully Bones will wake up soon enough.”

Jim helped to lift the body over my shoulders in a fireman’s carry, and we made our way around the shale wall.

“So, Bones probably headed here to avoid the forest—damn, I should’ve known he wouldn’t risk it with Droxine.”

“But considering the Woman in Black’s—or the Dread Pirate V’s—tactical skills, she may chance it to throw off pursuants.”

Jim nodded thoughtfully. “Then the forest it is, then.”

Which appeared to cover a vast distance on this cliff top we traversed.

“I do not recall any local species that we should be wary of,” I said as we neared the edge.

“Except they consider the Troglytes the most dangerous of them all. For all we know, they’ve avoided any scientific exploration in favor of avoiding them completely.”

Which is what I suspected when I initially read the reports. “Otherwise this is one of the few M-class planets completely devoid of a varied biological kingdom.”

Nearly impossible, considering the dense and lush surroundings we entered, complete with quiet sounds of small animal life rustling in the flora around us.

We both saw a brown, furry mammal race across the path ahead, and Jim sighed. “Maybe we should’ve brought Sulu. At least he has a rapier.”

“I apologize for my lack of defensive weaponry.”

Jim gave me a wide grin. “Nah, I like your weaponry just fine.”

Which did not make sense to me at that time, but we continued onward into the forest.

 

 **(** “I do not understand your amusement.”

Jim wiped a tear from his eye. “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

Joanna hoped this would include her, too.

“On Vulcan and in Earth society, I am of mature age.”

Jim’s laughter trailed off and he took a breath. “Well, don’t ever change, Spock.”

“It is illogical to ask a spouse to do such a thing, in the first place.”

Jim was still shaking his head as he looked at Joanna. “How are you doing?”

She decided to be honest. “I’m tired like whoa.”

“Well—“ Jim started emptying items from a pocket, “I got you candy, if it helps.”

He placed the hard candies in the blanket basket of her lap, and she picked up a few to examine in a Sickbay lamp. Some glowed red like rubies, others emeralds, while some had bright bursts of shapes in the center.

“Now, Spock is going back to the bridge and I get to tell this part.”

“Have you eaten, Jim?”

“I had a few of these.” Jim held up a candy between his fingers. “And don’t make me ask the same of you, Spock.”

Spock could only look to the biobed before giving a small nod of assent. “As it is eight hours before observation ends, I will be back to offer further assistance.”

It was peculiar, the slip of action that Joanna was sure most people didn’t see. Before Spock turned to leave Sickbay, two fingers were held out, whispering quickly against Jim’s own. If she had blinked, she might have missed it—it was no lingering touch, but similar to the strike of a match.

Jim didn’t even watch Spock as he left the room, focusing directly on Joanna.

“We’re at the forest, huh?” He grinned. “ _Excellent._ ”

Yet Joanna still wondered about matches. **)**

 

The forest we traveled actually has a huge reputation on Ardana. At the time, we had no idea we’d landed on one of the most dangerous areas of the planet. One where scientists tried not to go in order to avoid being eaten, or maimed, or burnt alive, or— 

“So while I was in the mines,” Vanna started as she grabbed Droxine away from a blowing steam fissure. “There was the collapse, as you are well aware. At the time I had no idea it was a staged stunt—but I was new to the section I was assigned, and thus had no basis for comparison.”

“The mines are all different?” Droxine asked as she grasped Vanna’s fingers tightly.

“Indeed.”

They moved gingerly through the forest, which had a thickly carpeted floor of moss and vines—making it difficult to see the mini eruptions of sudden flame, or quick sand, or any number of rodents until they were practically upon them.

“During the collapse I was kidnapped by the Dread Pirates, who used the explosions as a ruse to sneak out those they could find.” Vanna stabbed at her feet and then swung her sword outward, in order to fling off its furry victim. “I had not been well at that time, due to an illness that resided deep in my chest and barely allowed me to catch my breath. So, when the guards were trying to evacuate us, I was left behind as a forfeit.”

“They _left_ you?”

Vanna shrugged, then grabbed Droxine out of the way of another gust of hot steam. “I was not being productive.” She quirked a lip. “In a way, I imagine I would have most certainly died if they had possessed morals. The Troglytes never receive adequate medical care, and no doubt I would have only faded away in another mine.”

Droxine frowned as Vanna continued. “I was knocked out by the force of the collapse, and I had no idea what had happened until I woke up in a strange place. For a moment I thought I was in the World of Ever-Dreaming—the bed I lay in was the softest I had ever felt, the linens were warm. I saw sunlight in my hazy vision—something I was convinced I’d never see again.”

Droxine watched Vanna’s eyes, absorbed. “Where _were_ you?”

“I was in a higher mine that leads to this forest. They were a community—a _peaceful_ community of Troglytes that resides up here.”

“They rescued you?”

“They not only rescued me, they welcomed me. When my eyes focused on my surroundings, there was a masked man waiting for me—who only smiled, and simply said, ‘You have come home to us.’”

“What did he mean?”

Vanna paused at a patch of dirt before picking up a rock to throw before them—which quickly got swallowed in a soon-apparent sand pit.

Vanna led them around it. “It turns out he was the Dread Pirate V, leader of the Disrupters. Well—now the former leader of the Disrupters.”

Droxine went wide-eyed. “ _Really?_ Of the Disrupters? But they do bad things, like steal from airships and hijack—“

“Mineral shipments?” Vanna raised an eyebrow and laughed. “That is certainly the Dread Pirates.”

As Droxine furrowed her brow in confusion, Vanna continued. “Apparently their main activities remain secret from the government. Their real mission is to save Troglytes from the deeper mines, and move them out to higher territory where there is a chance for self-sustenance.”

“But—“ Droxine shook her head. “There’s food and shelter in the mines.”

“Yes, certainly, if you want to live in dirty conditions and eat day-old scraps.”

Droxine huffed. “I never.”

“ _Princess_ ,” Vanna said affectionately as she cut away at the dense thicket in front of them. “There is a distinct lack of information. I do not blame you for not knowing.”

‘Well, you obviously blame _someone_ ,” Droxine muttered.

“You are correct, I do.” Vanna let go of a hand in order to unwrap vines from around her blade, before reaching back for those delicate fingers once again. “I blame a cycle of misinformation and tyranny, which blinds everyone to the obvious mistreatment that is apparent once you see it.”

“But the guards wouldn’t—“

“Ah, but see, Troglytes are sub-human. It does not matter if we are cut and bleeding. They will reassure themselves with saying we are thick-skinned, due to mining, and it does not hurt like it hurts everyone else. Or they will hand us our stale food with the perception that we are emaciated most of our lives, and therefore our nutritional needs must be vastly difference.” Vanna chopped her blade through the air and barely missed staking into tree bark. “It is only apparent as long as someone is willing to _see_ , Droxine. Until then, misperceptions will only fog everything and provide plenty of excuses.”

There was silence as they made their way forward, both perhaps thinking of what was just said. Finally, after an hour of traversing, they found a clearing where there appeared to be fallen logs for both of them to sit on, yet they still sat far away from each other.

 

 **(** “How can Droxine get mad at Vanna for telling the truth?”

Jim pressed his lips together as he thought through that one. “Well, I don’t know if it’s really anger at Vanna, exactly. But imagine if you had felt something was just and proper your entire life, and then the most important person to you said it was a lie.”

Joanna bit the inside of her lip. “I’d be mad that I was lied to in the first place.”

“ _Exactly._ ” **)**

 

“It’s not _fair_ ,” Droxine said to the ground. “I mean, I know that we treat you differently, but—“ Droxine flailed an arm in exasperation. “I can’t believe they just _left_ you to cut their losses.”

“I hate to inform you Princess, but it happens all the time. And most are not fortunate enough to meet the Dread Pirates.”

Droxine glared at a rock, then kicked it a few centimeters ahead. “There is no reason to not have adequate medical care in the mines. A healthier worker would be more productive, at least!”

Vanna crossed her arms. “Is that so?”

Droxine lifted her chin, then picked up a rock beside her and threw it. “Yes, it would make more sense.”

They sat in silence as Vanna tried to school her countenance to not-glaring, while Droxine casually threw things. Eventually however, when Vanna was too schooled and Droxine ran out of small objects, Droxine stood up and stomped to the nearest rock.

“I can’t believe my father would sanction any of tha— _aat!_ ”

Vanna jumped up and raced forward, eyes wide in horror as the blonde head zipped downwards and got sucked into an impossibly large and gaping hole of sand in the ground.

 

 **(** Joanna stared at Jim in bewilderment as a moment’s pause turned into several moments, and then into a full minute.

She huffed in frustration. “ _Well?_ ”

He took a deep breath before leaning forward to pat a knee. “It’s okay, Joey.”

“What’s okay?” she said breathlessly.

Jim shrugged. “Oh, you just seemed really anxious about the story, that’s all. Wanted to give you a moment to calm down.”

Joanna glared. “I’m fine.”

Jim bit back a smile. “If you say so.” **)**

 

Vanna looked around wildly before she grabbed a long length of vine and wrapped it around her torso. 

She studied the pit carefully before taking a long, deep breath—and diving right into the center.

 

 **(** “Are you sure you’re all right?”

Joanna pelted him with a candy. **)**

 

The minutes stretched long and tenuous as the thick vine was pulled taut into the sand pit and started rotating. It groaned with the strain, threatening to snap, just as a ripple effect started to appear on the surface…

To reveal a pair of tanned hands pulling deftly at it, before two heads gasped loudly in the open air.

Droxine panted loudly with arms clinging to Vanna’s neck, as Vanna blinked heavily and fought to maneuver them out of the pit.

Hands grabbed wildly for traction as knees finally made it on solid ground, and they both crawled wearily towards a patch of moss.

Droxine fell onto her back first, followed by Vanna at her side, whose hands sought to make sure the Princess was still there.

“ _God_ ,” Droxine rasped, brushing sand from her face as she entwined Vanna’s fingers with her own.

Vanna panted herself, chest heaving as she still fought to regain breath. Her head lolled to the side, her green eyes fixed on the solid body next to her.

“Princess…your skills… at observing… are still the worst I’ve ever _seen_.”

Droxine turned her head to get a better look at the emerald gaze, before she choked out a relieved chuckle—followed by a full-bellied, gravelly laugh, which caught on to Vanna herself.

Vanna hiccupped before angling herself closer to the thin, pale body next to her. “Do not scare me like that, again.”

Droxine sniffed and nodded, before she closed her eyes and let the soft, corals lips assault her mouth from above. A hand desperately pulled them closer together, with fear and adrenaline running rampant in their need to be touching and tasting and—

 

 **(** Joanna sighed. **)**

 

But then Vanna was mauled by a rodent of unusual size.

 

 **(** Joanna gaped. “…What?” **)**

 

Teeth bit into a dark shoulder and dragged Vanna off as Droxine shrieked. Vanna grappled with her nails at the furry head in vain as she was pulled backwards and across the dirt forest floor. Fingers failed to reach and jab eyes, nose, and mouth before Vanna gripped at a rock and bashed it behind her, loosening the grip of her attacker.

Vanna rolled over quickly, although with a slight stagger at the pain in her left shoulder. But she faced her attacker squarely—which looked like a 100-pound rat on steroids, with glistening and dripping teeth.

The rodent made snarly sounds as they circled each other, and Vanna bit back a hiss of pain.

“Princess,” Vanna stated quietly, as it rang clearly in the space around them. “ _Run_.”

And before Vanna could strategize an attack the rodent leapt upon her, tearing the skin at Vanna’s arms as she blocked the path to her throat. They wrestled in the dirt back and forth, rolling over and over until they collided with a log which pinned Vanna to the bottom.

You could imagine it was hopeless for a moment. The rodent had pure aggression on its side, and Vanna was forced to take a strong defensive. She couldn’t talk her way out of this one, nor use a strange logic, or kick the animal in the groin.

In fact, Vanna could only move her arms—the animal’s behind so rotund, that she was done for if she couldn’t damage the face of it, soon.

Vanna had made her mind up to take an errant stab that might lead to death, when the animal _howled_ in pain.

Vanna knocked the back of her head to the dirt, yet turned enough to see a horrifying site—Droxine aiming another rock at the rodent, with a taunt on her lips.

“Come here, you beast!”

Vanna mouthed a _No_ , as the animal raced forward with a leap—

And was sucked down into the sand pit before them.

Vanna’s eyes rolled to the back of her head as she heard rocks drop and feet skitter in the sand.

“Vanna!” It was a desperate cry as a hand went to lift the back of her head. “God, there’s blood _everywhere_.”

Droxine looked down at the hem of her dress and started ripping the silver and blue fabric into strips. “Stay with me Vanna—I need you.”

“Princess,” Vanna murmured, then felt a kiss to her brow as Droxine grabbed an arm.

“I’m wrapping these up, but we need to clean them soon.”

Vanna mumbled an assent, and allowed each arm to be handled as Droxine pressed to stop the flow of blood.

Her dress was a mess by the time Vanna was wrapped. It was imperfect, as spots wrapped first were already turning umber.

“Can you stand?” Droxine asked before biting her lip at the fluttering eyelids, fighting to stay open.

“Yes—“

But when legs didn’t move, Droxine looked down the length of the stout body, as if formulating a plan.

“Can you sit up?” Droxine slid an arm under Vanna’s shoulders.

Vanna blinked a few times, then allowed herself to be maneuvered upright. “I think—it’s—the poison.”

Droxine worried a lip. “The poison?”

“The… teeth… poison.”

Droxine shook her head in denial. “I’m going to stand us up, and you’re going to lean on me.”

Vanna had a moment to raise an eyebrow before her eyes rolled up.

“Stick with me!” Droxine insisted as she put an arm around Vanna shoulders and started to haul them upward—

Before they both smacked down again.

“Vanna,” Droxine said, trying to make eye contact. “Listen to me.”

Vanna rolled her head to the side.

“We can’t have it end like this—not over something as small as _poison_.” Droxine bit a lip. “I just found you. How can you leave me now?”

Vanna groaned and Droxine kept her upright.

“Listen to me—Vanna, listen.” She tilted the mussed red head to face her. “We need to be together. I don’t care how, I don’t care who it hurts— _we’ve hurt_. And I swear to God Vanna, if you die on me again, I’ll never forgive you. I’ll never forgive that you blew our second chance.”

 

 **(** “That’s a jerk thing to say.”

Jim shared a glance with Pavel, who had been sitting in rapt attention.

“Keptin,” he chimed in, “I don’t zhink she had a choice.”

Jim thought on that a moment, before he said, “We all have choices.”

“To _die_?” Joanna exclaimed. “Especially when she’s dying because she saved Droxine’s ungrateful butt in the first place?”

Jim raised his brows. “Really? You think so?”

“Well… Droxine did her best. But it’s not like Vanna _wanted_ to get hurt.”

But a small smile appeared on Pavel’s face, as if something just occurred to him. “But ve have choices to accept or not accept—“ he looked at Jim directly when he said this and quirked a lip, “the no-vin scenario.”

When Jim grinned back, none of it still made any sense to Joanna, and she pouted. **)**

 

“Vanna,” Droxine whispered to the tanned brow. “I need you. Stay with me.”

Vanna opened her emerald eyes wide to stare at the blonde princess, before her lips mumbled wordlessly, then, “Never… doubt.”

Droxine kissed the bridge of her nose and said, “You just need to rest. With the poison—“ Droxine looked at the bandages. “I’ll figure something out.”

Vanna swallowed, then, “Fox… wood. It is red and—“

Droxine nodded. “I studied herbs. I know what it looks like and what it does.” When Vanna managed a confused look, Droxine gave a short laugh. “What, the Princess knowing medicinal herbs surprises you? You know it’s an art on Stratos.”

Vanna closed her eyes with a groan, and Droxine stroked the now-feverish face.

“I need to find water, and—and foxwood.” Droxine looked around. “But first, somewhere you can lie down.”

Vanna’s eyelids kept fluttering as Droxine took the short sword and looked around them. There were palm leaves the size of their heads, which Droxine reasoned would form bedding along with ravaged moss. It took some scouring, but small dips of water were also found in beams of moonlight around their area.

In the crux of two logs Droxine formed a bed, and with that she huffed and dragged the now weak body and arranged Vanna comfortably. Droxine kneeled beside her, thin knees touching skin as she changed bandages.

“God, I don’t want to leave you,” Droxine said as she smoothed wet hair over the feverish brow. “But the foxwood isn’t around here, and we need it soon—“ she gulped as a tremor went through Vanna’s body. “What if, what if—“

Droxine desperately reached forward and touched their foreheads together, skin-to-skin. “I know you’ll be here when I get back. But please—don’t make me worry.” Droxine softly kissed the corner of Vanna’s parted mouth that gasped for air. “I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

And with one last lingering look, Droxine covered Vanna’s body in large green palms, and then made her way with the short sword to look for foxwood in the twilight.

 

 **(** Joanna gulped nervously, along with Pavel and Janice, as they all watched Jim with avid attention.

He wanly smile and gave a shrug. “That’s my part.”

“What?” Joanna exclaimed. “You’re leaving it there?”

“You can’t leave it there!” Janice insisted. “The incident report is long, there’s no way that’s it.”

“Keptin, are you vaiting for Mister Spock?”

Jim gave an amused chuckle to all of them. “Gee, and here I thought nobody wanted to listen to this…” he gave a sideways glance to Joanna. “You know, kissing and dying and stuff.”

“Yeah, but you’ve bothered to tell me all the _stuff_ , so you at least have to finish what you’ve started,” Joanna insisted, since that was certainly reasonable.

“Really,” Jim said with a quirk of the lip, and Joanna rolled her eyes again as Leonard came into the room.

“Where are we at?”

“Keptin left off vith Droxine leaving Wanna alone in ze forest.” Pavel looked wide-eyed at Leonard. “You know vhat happens next, right?”

Leonard looked at Joanna’s vitals, before he sighed and gave an amused look to Jim. “You feeling mean today?”

“Nah, just knew you liked this part best.” Jim grinned. “ _And_ I should probably check in with Spock. Maybe do that meeting with Scotty, too.” He stretched arms over his head. “I think I have a starship to run, or something.”

Leonard waved him off. “I’ll take it from here.”

“ _Nice_ ,” Jim said as he got up from his chair. “But guys, no matter what he says—I was _totally_ awesome.”

An eyebrow went up as Jim shrugged. “What? It’s true. Should always be the default assumption, here.”

And her father continued shaking his head as the captain left sickbay, with Jim whistling until the doors slid shut behind him. **)**

 

Well, the sedative kept me knocked out for a while. So long, that by the time I woke up it was light again, and I had the worst headache since your mom told me she was—well, it was pretty bad, just saying. 

When I opened my eyes wide, I saw a lush, green world moving away from me. Then I felt the emanating warmth of the body under me— _carrying_ me.

“Spock, put me the hell down.”

The green world stood still as I saw Jim’s form suddenly whip into view.

“Bones?” His dirty and grimy face grinned. “Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty.”

“ _Thanks_. Now let me down.”

“I will put you down slowly, Doctor.”

Which was smart of Spock to say, as when I landed on my feet I stumbled and needed a moment to lean against the both of them.

“What happened?” I asked.

Jim gave a wary glance to Spock. “Um, we were going to ask _you_ that.”

“Great.” I put my hands out to steady my suddenly-shifting balance, before looking back at Jim. “Well, I was at the table with the Woman in Black, and then—“

“Yeah, care to explain how she did that?” Jim was worried, yet also amused, because we both know he’s kind of jerk.

“Well, it was supposed to be a game of wits—are we walking, or not?”

Jim and Spock exchanged another look, before Jim moved ahead and Spock moved behind me—typical. But it allowed me not to worry about my surroundings, as I explained the game that the Woman in Black had played on me.

I heard Jim sigh when I finished. “Maybe she switched them when you weren’t looking.”

“On the contrary,” Spock spoke up behind me. “Perhaps both vials were a sedative.”

“Yeah, but she took it too,” I countered, before I remembered—“ _Damn_. Damn, damn, damn.”

“As both vials were blue—“

“Yeah, and I’m guessing she must be immune to its effects—built up a tolerance.” I clenched my jaw. “No wonder she looked so unconcerned with the outcome.”

I heard Jim hum a thought. “Whoever this pirate is, she’s pretty damn smart—she’s always moving three steps ahead of us.”

“It makes our assailant formidable.”

“And gee, they said the Troglytes aren’t supposed to be _intelligent_.” Jim used a thick stick he found to swath leaves out of our way. “They’ve certainly never met _this_ pirate.”

“How do you know she’s a Troglyte?” I asked, hearing Spock open his tricorder behind me. “If she’s is, she’s awfully calm for being in constant contact with the zenite.”

“She hinted as much when we were fighting. Although—“ Jim stopped to glance at me. “You said she was calm?” Jim shared a look with Spock. “I mean, she fought us, but she wasn’t overly-aggressive like the other Troglytes we’ve met.”

I nodded. “We sat and had a game of _wits_.” I pointed a thumb behind me. “I might as well have been playing chess with Spock, back there.”

“I would not describe our only game as ‘calm’, Doctor. Although your colorful expressions did prove interesting.”

As I glared at Spock behind me, Jim chewed on the inside of his cheek and started moving forward.

“This all adds up to something,” he murmured in thought. “She said she was a pirate, that she overthrew mineral shipments—that takes more than one person, so there must be more of them. And if they’re all Troglytes— _calm_ Troglytes—they all must live outside the mines.”

“ _Where_?” I asked, the world of Ardana suddenly seeming bigger and more complicated. “They’re not allowed in the clouds, and they won’t go in the mines—“

“Perhaps we are invading their territory at this moment.”

Jim and I both stopped to look at Spock, who spared us a glance from his tricorder.

“During my encounter, she seemed quite aware of the terrain. Since the Troglytes are kept in the mines below, and yet she is not a miner—“

Jim finished for him. “This is the only place left to go.”

“Well, _damn_.” I gestured around us. “We came up here to avoid trouble, and yet we walk into trouble anyhow.”

“I think I might like these Troglytes better, Bones,” Jim offered as we continued walking.  
“Without the zenite’s influence, perhaps they’re up for listening about the mining masks. If we can’t convince the miners and Plasus, maybe _they_ can.”

“It is worth trying, if they are willing to sit—” Spock stopped abruptly, staring intently at his tricorder. “Captain, I am picking up some faint humanoid readings.”

Spock walked carefully around us, leading the way to a clearing that was large and covered with sand. Jim and I followed as he walked directly to two logs and a patch of fallen leaves, not taking his eyes off the tricorder screen.

Spock motioned with his head, and Jim dragged his stick through the leaf pile until it snagged.

He poked, then asked, “Dead?”

“No.” Spock furrowed his brows, then kneeled down to brush the leaves off of the form below.

When I joined him, we soon revealed black clothing—and a familiar face with red hair.

“God,” I said as I pulled out my med kit. “She looks pale enough to be dead.”

“Why is she alone?” Jim asked, then looked around. “Where’s Droxine?”

“I am not picking up any other life readings,” Spock said. “Perhaps she escaped.”

I wished I had my medical tricorder, but the gashes on the pirate’s face suggested the problem. “I’m guessing she has an infection, and her body is barely fighting it off.” I reached into my med kit, although all it contained were small squares of gauze and useless antiseptics. “I have no clue from what. Maybe whatever bit her, or attacked her, or—“

“Someone has wrapped her wounds.” Spock moved more leaves to reveal dirty and blood-soaked bandages. “And if I am not mistaken, these strips appear to be the fabric of— “

“Droxine,” Jim finished, then pursed his lips in thought. “So she stayed long enough to tend to her wounds—possibly fashion these leaves together—but then she ran away?” Jim shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense to me.”

“Perhaps she was looking for assistance.”

A thought occurred to me, and I ticked a finger at the both of them. “You know, Droxine was showing me her herb book yesterday—she was telling me about the Stratos form of medicinal arts and her great interest in it. She has a huge journal of pressed leaves and flower petals.” I motioned around us. “If she knew what happened to this woman, perhaps the best form of assistance would be _herself_.”

“Yeah, but,” Jim kneeled with us, “the question still remains— _why_ would she help her kidnapper?”

“Well, a doctor is compelled to help, Jim.” I quirked a lip. “I’d probably tend the devil, if he needed it.”

As we all looked down at the now-shivering body, silence descended among us. Although _my_ goal was to help this person, no matter what they had done to me, I knew Jim and Spock were more concerned with connecting the dots of various facts.

I looked at the bandaged arms, which had bled through the silver of Droxine’s strips of dress. “I’m going to take these off.” I looked at Spock . “Would you be able to get water?”

He nodded as Jim stood up.

“I’m going to look around. There’s got to be some clues around here—”

“On the contrary, Captain,” Spock said as he paused and looked at his tricorder again. His intense gaze was then aimed over my shoulder. “I believe your biggest clue might be headed this way.”

We all turned in that direction, although I couldn’t see anything in the brush on the edge of the clearing. But Jim nodded at Spock, and both of them moved quickly to the edge of the thicket.

“How far do you figure?” Jim said distantly as they entered the brush of forest. But I didn’t hear much of an answer as I tended to the body next to me.

And well, if you hadn’t guessed by now—she was an absolute _mess_. A mess without any hopes of adequate medicinal assistance, and now without Spock to bring me water to at least clean her wounds.

“Dammit,” I muttered under my breath. I could feel in my gut the desperation, the kind that winds and binds itself when I know that things are dire. And looking down at the Woman in Black, still and with the uncanny impression of a ghost, I knew I should act quickly.

Her pulse was irregular and her breathing erratic, and the only thing I could think of was the stabilizer for her blood pressure, the red vial left in the med kit. It would only be a quick fix, but maybe it would help until Jim and Spock found Droxine, or I cleaned the wounds, or—or, whatever else.

I applied the hypo, relieved when I saw a large exhale from the woman’s chest, which petered out to something normal. That is what mattered at the moment, although it probably wouldn’t last for long.

I also found an emergency heat-retention blanket in the med kit—about the size of a deck of cards, yet unfolded was large enough to wrap an entire body several times over. I tucked it as tightly as I could around the Woman in Black without moving her, folding it under her sides. She was likely cold on top of everything else, with her back to the ground, although she lay on a thick bed of leaves. I just hoped it would be enough.

The small square gauze pads didn’t look promising, but at least they were clean. I got up and walked to the edge of the clearing, hoping for the chance that water would be gathered somewhere—if not to cleanse the wounds, then at least to hydrate her. But in my first few steps, I quickly learned a few things

One was that there were steam fissures in the ground that suddenly erupted, only hinting with a low _hiss_ —Spock must have been great in navigating those, as he had held the tricorder. The second was a sand pit not far off, which I barely escaped from when a rock skidded from my boot and landed in its inconspicuous mouth.

The third was that I was not alone, and the eyes in the forest were horrible when I couldn’t see what they were attached to.

“No doubt one is your saboteur,” I murmured to the Woman in Black. If I had my medical tricorder—or at least Spock’s—I’d feel more at ease. It wouldn’t quash the anxiety entirely, but it’s always good to know how many creatures would like to eat you.

Instead I noticed a pattern in the steam fissures and decided to take advantage of them. They seemed like small geysers, although I knew we were above the mines and nowhere near the mantle of the planet. I suspected they had to do with the mining technology of refinement, or whatever else—but when they erupted, they did appear to leave some intense condensation. _Water technology_ , perhaps. Whatever it was, I decided that it was worth the attempt in collecting, no matter the amount.

So I laid out enough fronds to collect _something_ , while I further searched the fringes for water to tide me over in the meantime. Between that and what I collected, I was soon properly cleaning the gashes on the Woman in Black’s arms, using the rest to create drinking water with the med kit’s purifying tablets.

“Your saboteur had some teeth, all right,” I muttered. Considering the depth of them, I felt incredibly sympathetic at how the gashes had to hurt like hell. It made me wonder what other internal injuries could be present, as the gash marks looked to come from a large and strong creature. The thought made me scan the edges of the forest, trying to discern any movement.

At that point, I was also starting to wonder about Jim and Spock. Not that I knew exactly, but it felt like a long time to be alone. Jim and Spock had detected Droxine, and so she couldn’t be that far off. At the same time they weren’t back yet, which made me suspect that there was a chase of sorts.

Which was too bad, as I could’ve used the extra set of hands. The woman below me was barely holding on, despite my ministrations, and her limbs twitched in spurts. Even if I did have extra hands, perhaps only a prayer could really help her now.

I adjusted the thermal blanket as I felt a sharp knock to the back of my head.

I fell over onto the body, and barely had time to look up as a heavy hand threw me off. I felt the shove to my shoulder and rolled over, trying to move quickly to see what was happening and with whom.

A man in brown leather faced me, with a sword that pointed at my chest as I slowly stood and backed away.

“What is your business with the Disrupters?” he demanded, his dark brown eyes watching my every move.

I slowly put my hands up in the air. “None. What’s it to you?”

He jerked his head. “You mean to say you have no associations with the Dread Pirate V?”

I raised a brow. “Beg your pardon?”

“ _Move_ ,” he motioned with the sword tip, and maneuvered me closer towards the woman pirate. I inched my way around the fissures I remembered until I was standing parallel with the motionless body.

He glanced quickly down. “What happened?”

“Beat’s me. I found her like this.”

“And you were just kind to help.”

“I’m a doctor, it’s kind of what I _do_.”

The man huffed before he motioned down with the sword tip. “Can she move?”

“She’s near-death and comatose. What do _you_ think?”

The metal tip grazed my cheek and he hissed, “Will she die in transport?”

I shrugged. “As she is heavily poisoned, I doubt she’ll survive laying still.”

He nodded at that, as if mentally connecting pieces he wasn’t willing to share. “You will carry her.”

I winced at that. It wasn’t that she appeared very heavy, it was more that Jim and Spock wouldn’t be able to track us the further we wandered away.

But the sword was very convincing and I nodded. “All right, all right.” I pointed at my med kit. “I need this. I’m swinging it over my shoulder.”

I did exactly that—with the brief thought of throwing it, despite needing the few supplies inside—and I kneeled to carefully lift the woman up. “Care to tell me who you are?”

He quirked a lip, his unmasked face clearly showing amusement. “I do. Trust me when I say it is none of your concern.”

I highly doubted it. But as I was dragged by the shoulder to the opposite end of the clearing—he avoided the sand pit so perfectly, somehow—I hoped it would be because of a short acquaintance, and not by any other means.

 

 **(** “You should’ve thrown the kit.”

Leonard raised his brows. “You think?”

“It would have distracted him, and then you could’ve gotten away and lured him to Jim and Spock.”

Leonard grimaced. “That would’ve required leaving Vanna, and I wasn’t hip on the idea at the time.”

“Yeah, but then you wouldn’t have been kidnapped.”

Spock rounded the edge of the hospital divider just as her father opened his mouth to protest.

“Who knows if I would’ve found them, Joey?”

“Indeed, Doctor.” Spock sat in an empty chair on the opposite side of the biobed. “While your observations are interesting Joanna, they are counter to your father’s instincts as a physician and involve a high level of risk.”

Joanna looked down at her lap and huffed—being countered by Spock was always a downer. “Well, they got kidnapped. I was just saying.”

“Indeed. That was rather inconvenient.”

Leonard grumbled under his breath as he got up from his chair. When he passed the end of the bed, he lifted both hands and motioned, “Seven hours, Joey. Need another snack?”

Joanna shook her head. From lying in the hospital bed she only felt sleepy, but that was to be expected.

He nodded. “I’ll be back,” and then he moved past the divider towards his office.

Joanna looked to her right, where Spock was glancing at her vitals.

“You appear to be doing well.”

She shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.” She turned on her side to face him. “You guys seem to pop in at the right moments. What’s up with that?”

“I calculated Jim and your father’s story-telling styles and gave an allowance of 15 minutes. It appeared to work accurately.”

Joanna didn’t quite understand all the Vulcan head stuff, but it seemed neat nonetheless.

“All right,” she said, dismissing it immediately. “Are you going to tell me about how you found Droxine now?”

“If you would like to hear it.”

Joanna made a face before glancing back sheepishly. “I wouldn’t mind so much?”

Spock folded his hands on a knee. “That is agreeable.” **)**


	3. Perceptions

The tricorder readings had indicated a life form two hundred meters from us, which was the scope of my instrument. It was pure conjecture that this was Droxine, as the figure moved steadily towards us as if it followed a path or trail. 

We left your father behind, with the possibility of fulfilling two purposes with one act—

 

 **(** “Killing two birds with one stone?” Joanna offered.

Spock raised an eyebrow. “While I dislike the brutality of that statement, it is apt.” **)**

 

As we moved further from McCoy, with the distance and time involved longer than we had anticipated, our concern for leaving him unarmed increased. 

“Captain, I will move ahead if you would like to—“

“We’re halfway there and in the thick of it.” Jim pointed his stick into the brush, where he had just assaulted a rodent of unusual size. “Better to stick together. Bones will be okay.”

I could sense his anxiety, but he moved ahead as I looked down at the tricorder. Eventually we were within ten meters and I tapped his arm.

He stopped and watched me, just as I pointed over his shoulder. He followed my line of sight, then motioned for us to hide in the surrounding thicket.

Our frequent combat missions allowed us a routine for these events. Starfleet trains its officers well in covert operations, which are particularly needed in times of observing the Prime Directive. Thus we knew to hide in ambush wordlessly. Jim would refer to this as being an excellent team, and I would find it hard to argue with that statement.

Especially when in this instance Droxine emerged looking hesitantly around her. She kept aware of her surroundings as she stepped carefully, paranoid of every movement.

She had cause to be, as Jim and I both grabbed and tripped a bare leg.

She yelled as we each held an arm out to catch her fall, and thus held her trapped between us.

Droxine barely looked at us as she lunged towards the ground. “The foxwood! Please, _please_ —pick up the foxwood!”

Jim glanced at the ground, as she wouldn’t stop repeating her demand.

“ _Please_ —I searched all morning and that’s all I could find. Don’t let it be wasted!”

I nodded at Jim, and I watched as he bent over carefully to retrieve a small stack of red leaves, similar to those of the ferns I have seen on Earth.

Jim tightened his grip, then held the leaves up in front of her. “Need these for somebody, do you?”

She gave an exasperated huff. “Vanna is poisoned, and making a tincture of the herb will counteract its effects.” She swallowed nervously. “But we must hurry. I have been away for hours, and it’s already been too long.”

I glanced at Jim before saying, “If you are referring to the individual in black garb, then she was alive when we left her 20 minutes ago.”

Droxine visibly exhaled, her relief evident. “Thank goodness.” But then she looked quickly between us. “We must still hurry back. The poison has been in her system for too long, and it might destroy the blood.”

It was not a medical concern that I was familiar with, but considering that our answers to events would surely only come from assisting Droxine in her pursuit, I nodded. “That sounds wise.”

Jim met my eyes, which expressed his wariness. “You stick between me and Spock, and we’ll get you back.”

As he moved ahead, I noticed that Jim did not hand back the herb. A wise maneuver, although I suspected that Droxine would have followed us without the necessity of taking her medicinal herb hostage. As we moved through the forest Droxine did not say a word on the matter and followed us steadily, which suggested that her mind was on other matters than the symbolism of who held what.

Which seemed to be proven correct as we neared the clearing and Droxine rushed ahead of us, running towards the two logs covered with leaves.

Except they were clearly vacant.

Droxine was on her knees, combing through debris. “Vanna?”

“Bones?” Jim spun around and cupped his hands to yell, “ _Bones!_ ”

I checked my tricorder, which indicated several small beings watching us, yet not a presence moving away.

“I do not have any readings that would indicate Doctor McCoy.”

Jim swore, then rounded on Droxine. “Well?”

But she was already stomping towards us, her face also full of fury. “What? You think Vanna rose from the dead and whisked him off?” She glared at both of us. “Is this some sort of ploy? You are risking her life—“

Jim pointed a finger. “She’s like some fricking _ninja_ , don’t tell me—“

Droxine crossed her arms. “Oh, that’s great. Last I checked your doctor was _sleeping_.”

Jim growled. “Yeah, about that—“

I held up a hand between them. “There will be time to discuss this later.” I looked at each in turn. “However it happened, I suspect our doctor and your patient are traveling together in some manner. It would be best to utilize our time to determine what direction this might be, rather than speculating on how it occurred.”

Jim huffed. “Bones wouldn’t leave unless he thought it was best for her.”

Droxine looked back helplessly at the logs. “She was so still before. I can’t imagine why anyone would move her.“

I nodded. “I am in agreement. As Doctor McCoy had no knowledge of nearby assistance, it seems unlikely that he moved her for those circumstances.”

Jim spun to eye the entire clearing, looking for clues. “Then what about an attack?”

“That also seems unlikely, as there are no further signs of struggle, nor do I think they would have disappeared entirely without remains.” I glanced visually and only saw palm leaves scattered in certain directions.

Jim nodded. “Then that means someone took them.”

Droxine’s eyes widened. “You mean, my father—“

“Yeah, maybe. Although we weren’t gone for long, they could’ve snuck on them suddenly. If they knew the forest well—“

Droxine shook her head. “I don’t think so. We generally don’t go into these parts, not even the scientists. The outskirts provide all we need, and it is rare that anyone enters the interior.”

I considered that a moment. “They might have tracked us.”

Jim shook his head. “That takes time. We didn’t hear or catch them on our tricorder when we left—all of 40 minutes ago.” Jim kicked one of the logs. “ _Damn_.”

I agreed internally with his sentiment. The odds of finding McCoy in an unknown jungle were very minute, although our tracking skills were par with training at Starfleet. But not knowing an area allowed large margins of error in our seeking, which was an uncomfortable reality considering the dire circumstances.

I moved past the logs and towards the thicket, where I perused for any visual signs of damage. Outwardly I saw none and thus looked at my tricorder in the hopes of a lingering heat signature.

There was a trace of a path in green on the thermal map, which seemed our best lead.

Jim looked over my shoulder. “Got something?”

I showed him. “A faint trail can be discerned. Although of what being or beings is unknown.”

A blonde head appeared next to us, her hand reaching out to turn the screen towards her.

“We have to follow it,” Droxine said anxiously. “Vanna’s chances are really thin, we have to do everything we can.”

Jim gave me a wary glance. “Well, it’s the best we’ve got.”

I moved ahead of both of them, my mind on the tricorder while my hearing observed around us. It was potentially perilous to move ahead without a weapon, but it was the only way to discern the trail with the least contamination from our heat-giving bodies.

I kept note of impending fissures and rodents as Jim made conversation behind me.

“So,” he started, “you keep referring to our friend in black as Vanna.”

I heard a sigh. “Yes, her name is Vanna.”

My mind puzzled the hesitancy as Jim delved into it.

“Did she introduce herself, or are you familiar with each other?”

Several possibilities came to mind. One of which was that Vanna was a guard at court, and thus was sent to retrieve Droxine from her kidnappers. Strangely alone, but considering her apparent skill, was still possible.

“We were childhood friends,” Droxine said. “She came into my household as a servant while I was young and stayed until she reached adulthood.”

“You were friends with a Troglyte?” Jim asked, although I had considered the possibility of city dwellers also being servants.

Droxine gave a huff of exasperation. “Yes. Yes I was— _am_.”

“Am? Currently?”

There was silence, and then, “Vanna is different.”

“Obviously,” I muttered, but was overridden by Jim’s question.

“How so?”

There was more silence as I could only speculate why. Was it reluctance of admitting to an acquaintance from another caste system? There was something hidden there, of which I had no doubts Jim would uncover.

“Vanna… understands me. When she was employed by my father, we grew close. She is different from the other Troglytes—she was naturally curious about our culture, and absorbed much of what I was learning.”

“So you connected,” Jim stated.

I imagined she must have nodded. “I could speak to her about anything.”

“But you said she was sent away?”

There was another pause, and then, “She was sent back to the mines, as is custom when the city dweller children reach adult age—when we supposedly have less needs. It was only Vanna’s age and record of familial obedience that had sent her to Stratos in the first place.”

“Then…” Jim trailed off, the next question seemingly apparent. But we both waited until Jim stated it outright. “Then why isn’t she still in the mines?”

Droxine was not immediately forthright, and it was a moment before she answered. “I personally thought she had died in a mine collapse. But she revealed to me that a rebellion faction had kidnapped her, and she was made a member some time after.”

It confirmed part of what Jim had stated, and he followed up with, “A faction against Troglyte suppression?”

“Yes, and—“

“And so she kidnapped you to make a point.”

There was a moment’s pause, of which I took as affirming to Jim’s position. Although I had no doubt of her sense of betrayal at being kidnapped by an old friend, it was perhaps—

“Vanna came to save me.”

I heard the rustling halt behind me, and turned to determine what had caused the delay. What I saw was Jim gaping at Droxine outright, an expression I found most unwarranted.

But Jim instinctually determined otherwise. “You don’t mean just from us, do you?”

Droxine’s blue eyes looked at the ground, then up at me—pleading as if for some escape, of which I would provide none. I, too, wished for clarification, as I could sense what Jim was proposing.

She looked back at Jim and said quietly, “While in my father’s employment, we grew close—until we decided we never wanted to be parted. We fell in love and began a relationship, of which hasn’t ended nor intends to end in the near future.”

There was a silence, of which I can conclude is the longest Jim has ceased speaking in any capacity. But eventually he took a deep breath and nodded in understanding.

“All right. Then Vanna and Bones were probably kidnapped.”

Droxine looked at both of us in surprise, and I tilted my head in affirmation.

“I see no other alternative. If Vanna were able to scout us from the skies, then no doubt she would have found the Princess again on land.”

“Which only leaves someone else of incredible skill,” Jim finished. He turned to Droxine. “Your father didn’t know of any of this, did he?”

Droxine shook her head. “We haven’t seen each other in five years—the registers state she disappeared in a mine collapse a year after she left. Nobody had reason to suspect she was even alive to pursue.”

Jim bit his thumb, mulling that over. Then he motioned with his head towards the trail. “Let’s keep moving—we’ll figure this out. Do we still have the trace on those heat signatures?”

“Affirmative. However there are no reasons to suspect—“

“It’s the best we got, let’s keep following.”

Of which we did for several kilometers. The forest was expansive and encompassed vision on all sides, with no sign of a tree line. As the Ardana sun rose directly above us, I began to suspect something which was soon confirmed by my scans.

“Captain, the trail stops—“ and I looked ahead into the empty forest, “twenty meters ahead of us.”

I saw Jim’s form brush past me as he looked around at our surroundings. I did the same, noting that nothing remarkable seemed to suggest why the trail would abruptly end. While the forest thinned in this area, allowing for another clearing to appear ahead, I did not see a reason to support why it would suddenly disappear.

We all walked to the clearing wordlessly, of which Jim barreled through—

“Captain!” Droxine yelled and ran forward to grab his arm.

“What—?” and then we all saw it at once, the tip of his military boot being swallowed whole before Droxine pulled him away.

Jim staggered a few steps backwards as I raced forward to ascertain his status.

“Captain?”

“Fine, Spock.” Jim turned on Droxine. “Sand pit, huh?”

She nodded, which caused me to look at my tricorder.

“Jim, I—our heat sensors cannot penetrate below us.”

It was a hazard I hadn’t even suspected—the sand pits perhaps created fissures that had eroded the ceiling of the caves over time and caused collapse. There was a likelihood that whatever they swallowed fell into the caves and dropped into unknown dangers below.

I saw Jim gulp and look at the ground, thinking the most probable end for those we were seeking.

“Bones,” Jim whispered, then looked back at me. “Can you determine how far down it goes?”

I switched screens on my tricorder. Approximations were suspect in a situation like this, as zenite infested the caves and caused many variables that could interfere with any readings I offered. But I calculated and offered them anyway.

“While these readings could be inaccurate, they gauge a hundred meters before any atmospheric disturbance below—which suggests many possibilities.“

“Well, we’ll find out, won’t we Spock?” Jim looked at me solemnly, with a decision I suspected before even calculating the risks.

Droxine moved to the edge of the sand pit with a hand to her mouth. “We fell in one back there.”

Jim turned his head. “A sand pit? You and Vanna?”

She nodded. “We used a vine to pull out, but—“ she shook her head, wide-eyed at both of us. “The sand is _oppressing_ on all sides. We couldn’t breathe, we could barely move. Vanna’s strength is the only thing that pulled us out.”

Droxine closed her eyes a brief moment before whispering, “There’s no way. If they slipped down there—“

Jim grabbed her arm and whirled her around, both hands on shoulders as he shook them.

“Hey—your chick beat death the first time and came all this way to save you. So she’s… a little out of it right now. But she has Bones with her, and that’s no small thing.”

I kept to myself that Leonard McCoy was of older age and not known for any sort of athleticism, as that avenue of thought was moot. What Jim was hinting at was the Doctor’s ingenuity—something more valuable in certain situations than brute strength alone.

But Droxine shook her head fiercely. “It’s not that, it’s just—I know Vanna is alive, she has to be. What concerns me is…“ she glanced warily at the sand pit, “how are _we_ going to follow them down?”

Jim gave her a look of admiration, which was well deserved. Most individuals were logically fearful of such chances, but these individuals would not last in Starfleet.

Jim’s eyes went to the treetops, scanning our surroundings. “So you said you used a vine last time?”

Droxine nodded, her eyes moving to the trees as well. When her gaze found what she was looking for, she pointed. “Like that one—thicker at the top, but with a good length.”

Jim gave me a look, and I tried to convey as much disapproval in a glance as I could. Considering the heat signature was from at least an hour ago, our haste would most likely not save them from the sand itself, but from whatever lied below—which meant we could take a moment to evaluate better options.

But Jim was having none of it. “Spock, help us look for some vines.”

“May I suggest—“

“Unless you can whip out a secret passageway to the same place, I think vines are our best option.”

“A vine is not likely to extend that length—“

“So we’ll tie a bunch together.” Jim had grabbed one and tested the strength in his hands. “It’ll work.”

Droxine and I exchanged a glance of pure skepticism, which Jim plainly ignored.

“No faith in me,” he muttered, then cleared his throat. “I was a boy scout.”

“Did your term in the boy scouts cover quicksand?”

“Um,” Jim tugged on another vine, pulling it loose from a tangle. “I might not have gotten that badge.”

Droxine gaped at his back while I reserved more composure for instances like these, as I was used to them with unfortunate frequency.

“Droxine,” I said quietly, “I suggest we do as the Captain has commanded.”

She nodded, stepping back for further view of the vines around her, and leaned against a tree.

“If only there was some wa— _aay_.”

And with that, I saw the Princess fall into the tree and disappear.

 

 **(** “So she fell behind the tree?”

“That is not what I stated.”

“Well, okay, how does a person fall _into_ a tree?”

Spock looked upward, as if mulling several possibilities in his head.

“Look, _you_ saw it. So you know which way.”

“I am merely calculating which answer would, as Jim would describe it, be considered suspenseful for the story.”

Joanna clenched her jaw. “Jim isn’t here right now.”

“Indeed, as he would probably supply the answer for me.”

“So just _tell_ me.”

“On the contrary—“ and Spock looked to the side. “I believe my turn has ended.”

Joanna groaned. “You have _got_ to be kidding me.”

“Take it easy, Joey,” Leonard stated from behind the curtain. “I’ll be there in a sec to help y’all out.”

Joanna’s eyes crossed to a strand of hair on her forehead, and she huffed a breath to move it away. When it did not, she tried to discern it with her fingertips.

When that failed, Spock watched her yank the strand out of her head. “Are you feeling well?”

“No,” she answered truthfully.

“Then your father should be alerted—“

Joanna shook her head. “I meant—I meant that I’m just irritated at being cooped up here, that’s all.”

Spock leaned back in his chair, just as her father rounded the partition and looked at her vitals.

“So, my part,” he started. “Basically, Vanna and I fell into the sand pit.”

Joanna stared at him openly. “Seriously?”

He quirked a lip. “Oh yeah.” After noting and recording her vitals, he moved to find a chair and sit beside her. “Bear with us Joey, you’ve still got six hours.”

Joanna face-palmed as her father exchanged an amused look with Spock.

“So Droxine fell in?”

“Indeed.”

“Great.” **)**

 

The man with the sword led us directly to the sand pit, as if he had the location in mind all along. The trip was like murder on my arms, as I had to carry the dead weight of the Woman in Black without much stopping—no pun intended, of course. 

“Can we rest a moment?“

“ _One_ moment.” And that was about all the man had to say the few times we stopped, except for “Move” or “”Hurry up” along the several-hour journey.

I shifted the woman several times in my arms, eventually resorting to a makeshift fireman’s carry when it got too much. In some ways it was encouraging when I shifted and she would make a groan—at least the woman was still alive, which was a great start to fixing up anybody.

But when we reached the clearing and I made to lean against a tree, the man stopped me.

“We have arrived,” he announced, looking around us. “Now if only I can remember…”

He trailed off, glancing around the circle. Truth be told I couldn’t remember where he looked, because I was exhausted and searching for anywhere to sit.

Spotting a log, I made our way towards us—regretfully unmindful of what was in our way.

“Ah, I found—“ he turned around, his eyes wide. “Stop, stop! You must stop—”

And that’s when, of course, we fell into the pit.

 

 **(** “Did it not occur to you from the last clearing you were in—“

“Spock, _I_ was about dead. Forget about remembering anything.”

“I am still surprised you are alive to remember.”

“Well I know the story, and _I’m_ not,” Leonard grumbled. “ _Anyway_.” **)**

 

The abrasive sand of the pit impeded our fall—I guess thankfully, although it was pure suffocation for a few minutes. All I remember is being pressed like a clover in a book while trying to grasp at anything, mainly the Woman in Black. 

Eventually I felt a _suck_ that pulled me quickly, and the world went rushing to my ears as I fell. I landed on a pad of straw moments before the Woman in Black dropped on top of me.

She pretty much punched me in the gut, and it took a few moments before I could regain my breath and open my eyes—to blink and stare at another set.

“Well, this isn’t how I usuawy accept m-my dewiveries,” the stout man stuttered with a thick tongue. “But it will d-do.”

He first pulled off the Woman in Black, dragging her away none-too-gently and letting her head loll as he tried to stand her up. He looked amusedly at it, shaking her a few times to shift it back and forth, “yes” or “no”.

“Normawy my suppwies are in better shape,” he quipped, then with a sigh hefted her into his arms. “W-wet me go put this one away, I’ll be b-back.”

I saw him move out of my vision, which struck me as strange when he seemed to think we were staying and probably was about to take us prisoner. But when I sat up, I noticed why—as the blade of a dark-haired man was aimed at my throat.

“Do not consider escaping,” his voice said smooth and low. His black gaze was unwavering as it focused on me. “This blade has sliced a thousand throats, and it is always hungry to slice one more.”

Well, wasn’t that friendly? But he held his arm steady, and I took him at his word. With nothing to defend myself, and still feeling like I fell from a mountain—literally—I sat still, trying to not let my anxiety show. At least I stared directly back—this sort of thing felt important, from a guy whose velvets and silks suggested that presence sometimes mattered more than words.

With what seemed like hours but probably was only minutes, there was an audible rush on stone. It caused me to turn my head towards a staircase to my right and see the man in brown leather barreling towards us.

He stopped abruptly with a skid of boots and looked between me and my captor.

“Anka, I have—“

“You are lucky, Umar Midro,” the man staring at me stated, enunciating the name with precision. “My evening was cleared for this, otherwise I would not have waited.”

Midro drew a sharp breath. “They were deep in the forest, Anka.”

“As are we.” Anka stared at him with dead calm. “Never again.”

“ _Right_ ,” Midro said quickly, then turned to look at me. “Where is—?”

“Euan is preparing the table with already-dead Disrupter on it.”

Anka bit off the last, and Midro inched closer to me.

“She was like that when I found her.”

Anka looked down at me as I bit back my thoughts on _that_

“Had a bit of fun without us?”

I snorted derisively. “You’re sick.”

“No, observant.” He flicked his blade down, then took a step back. “Follow me.”

I looked over at Midro, who sarcastically gestured to allow me first. I got up gingerly, my back hurting like hell, but I was able to follow the perfectly poised man ahead of us without limping.

We were in a large, decorated chamber—not anything I would’ve expected underneath a sand pit. But the floor was dusty, and I suspected that we probably fell into the mining caves. It made sense I guess, considering that the only thing below us _were_ the caves.

But from the ceiling hung rose and gold-colored draperies, accented with a deep orange. Parts of the floor had woven rugs, partially threadbare from use, that seemed ornate in design. For being a cave, it looked more like a room at a castle—there was even a wooden desk near a corner, a bookcase alongside it.

But none of those things held my attention quite like the long, winding apparatus stretched upon one wall. There were wheels and cogs and spikes that creaked and made a ratchety click, and moreover they all followed down to a long table, where the Woman in Black was strapped unconscious.

I gaped in horror—whatever that thing did, I doubted it would be pleasant. “What are ya gonna do with her?”

The stout man from before carried a bowl and a cloth, and was headed towards the table when he shook his head. “So mouthy.” He pointed at the woman. “I wike th-this one better.”

“Euan, what are her chances?” Anka said as he passed me, his eyes gleaming obsidian.

From where I stood, the woman’s face looked white as a ghost. My stimulant had definitely worn off, and she looked even worse than before. Her body sheen of sweat mixed with the dirt, and she looked mottled and bruised.

“I’d say— _eh_.” Euan dabbed at her face. “I can bwing her b-back, but there will not be scweaming.”

Anka cursed under his breath, then turned to look at Midro. “Are you _joking_?”

Midro had hands on hips as he opened his mouth for an excuse, but he closed it. Eventually he waved a hand with, “Pirates do not live a long time.“

“I wanted her _alive_ , Midro.”

“Well—“

“ _Fully_ alive.” Anka took a menacing step towards the man. “Not half-dead, not just _present_.” He got in Midro’s face. “There is no _fun_ with ‘just present’.”

“Well…” Midro shrugged his shoulders. “She will die, anyway—“

“ _All of her suffering has left already!_ ” Anka roared, and Midro dipped his head backwards to avoid the verbal slap. “She is _useless_ to me.”

At the end of the sneer Midro glanced at me, and my blood ran cold.

“I brought you… another?”

Anka gave an aggrieved sigh and waved a hand. “Not the same. Not young and vital, like the Dread Pirate V.” He curled a lip. “A _female_ Dread Pirate, even. It was too good to be true.”

I was not wholly concerned with connecting the dots on that one, as with the thought of what that contraption before me was going to do to that woman—and most likely do to me.

“Midro, take the man to a cell,” Anka ordered.

Before I could protest, Midro did this for me.

“But you promised—“

“Soon.”

“ _Soon_?” Midro shook his head. “She will die, and I must be the one—“

Anka turned on him, halting Midro’s words. “ _Soon_ , Umar Midro. Euan will fix her up, and then you will have your chance.”

This seemed to appease Midro, although he gave an angry look as he carted me into the caves. Behind us we heard Anka and Euan making small talk, before the twists of the caverns took us out of earshot.

I wasn’t handcuffed or bound in any way, and yet I followed Midro—who wasn’t paying much attention to me, as much as stomping down a series of openings.

I went with my Jim instinct on this one and said, “You seem upset.”

He scowled at me before we turned and he shoved me into a holding cell.

Midro held up a finger. “Not a word.”

“Or what? You’ll rack me like that dead woman in there?”

Midro took a menacing step towards me before his mind seemed to skid his instinct. Which was just as well, as I’d never be able to fight him off.

But I pressed him, anyway. “Why do you let them play you? Sounds to me like they just used you.”

Midro took a deep breath through his nostrils, then exhaled before answering, “It is a matter of business.”

“Business of death.”

“Indeed.” Midro paced into the hallway, looking down it before striding back in. “You will stay put.”

I motioned around me. “Can’t really go anywhere.”

Which was true, in that there wasn’t even a window. No decorated draperies or rugs in here, either. I only had the dark walls of the cave and a bed they had stuffed in a corner—surprisingly stable looking, considering their plans for me.

Midro muttered to himself as he closed and locked the door to my cell, then stormed away.

Which was all right, as I needed time to _think_.

I could imagine at that point what Spock and Jim were up to—no doubt more concerned with Droxine than with me, as they should be. Droxine was a clusterfuss of an incident waiting to happen, especially if she was hurt or killed somehow. No doubt they would be worried, but they couldn’t come for me, not at this moment.

What a mess we had gotten ourselves into, when Jim had said it’d be really simple and harmless. My doubts had proven true, I guess—although in this instance, I wish they hadn’t.

So, I needed to find to my own way out of there. And to rescue the Woman in Black—Dread Pirate, Disrupter, _whomever_ —from her tormentors.

 

 **(** “Why?”

Leonard looked at Joanna with raised brows. “Why not?”

“You didn’t know who she was—and she had poisoned you, and stuff.”

He sighed. “Joey, if you haven’t figured out by now, some things are just more important. And at that moment saving someone in need is what called to me, and what felt like the right thing to do.” **)**

 

Considering my options, I knew the only chance I had of getting out lied with Umar Midro. While he seemed like a skilled swordsman, able to navigate a treacherous forest, I knew that he was probably a fallible being like most Humans—he had a weakness, somewhere. It was just determining which avenue to pursue and crack open. 

I had a few hours to think about it. I tried out the bed and got some much needed rest, although my ears were constantly listening for the torture I expected. Although the assistant seemed to suggest she’d be healed before anything happened, I knew Midro and Anka had some sort of vengeance. Sympathies never ran deep in such circumstances.

After resting briefly I heard Midro come back to my cell, with what appeared to be food and drink. However, what was surprising was the amount of food that appeared—two large plates—until Midro sat across from me on the bed and pulled out his own flask.

“We will dine like friends. As we eat, you will tell me things.”

I raised my brows. “And you’ll tell me things?”

Midro shrugged, a piece of bread already stuffed in his mouth. “Perhaps.”

I took a piece of surprisingly soft bread in my fingers—well, _this_ was a start.

“What do ya want to know?”

Midro looked down at our plates. “What your business is with the Dread Pirate V.”

I wanted to roll my eyes. _That_ again. “I had no idea that woman was a pirate.”

“Is that so?”

“I came across her in the forest and she was covered with leaves.”

He bit into another piece of bread. “What kind of leaves?”

I mused on that a moment. “Large?”

Midro waved a dismissive hand. “So you stopped to see why she was there, I understand that. Were you traveling alone?”

There was a part of me that wondered how Midro didn’t know who I was. After all Jim, Spock, and I still wore our uniforms, and we’d been seen throughout Stratos together.

“What difference does it make?”

Midro gave me a surprised look. “I am only wondering, that is all.”

“All right, then I’m ‘wondering’ too—why do you care so much about her, anyway?”

 _That_ seemed to shut him up for a while. Which isn’t really what I wanted, but at the same time got him to stop asking about Jim and Spock.

Midro was contemplative before he answered, “She has wronged me.”

“Really.”

I tried to imagine what this could be—were they lovers, at some point? Friends? Archenemies from different castes competing for something? Midro seemed to know the forests and the caves, just like the woman pirate. Perhaps they were in the same society.

Midro dropped his bread to the plate and sighed. “I will tell you a story.”

I also dropped my bread. “I’m listening.”

The one good thing about Starfleet training is that it did teach me a bit of psychology, as I mentioned before. It was mandatory even, as you know our fleet was practically quartered when we started the five-year mission. We couldn’t have psychologists and therapists on every starship—and hell, it’s not like I wasn’t ever nosy enough to do the job myself.

So looking at Umar Midro, I knew instantly this was a horrible story. One that if we were in my office on the _Enterprise_ , I’d offer the man a drink. His face darkened, his eyes that were once friendly grew dim. He was reliving something, and being a man of age I knew that was never pleasant.

“When I was young, my family was of higher acceptance in the mines,” Midro started. “My mother and father had many children, all of us good workers—the guards give you perks for that, you know.” He ticked fingers, counting the lot of them. “Six of us, and Mam and Pap. We worked hard and we worked long hours, but in return we had a space of our own and plenty of food to eat.”

Midro couldn’t look at me, choosing instead to stare at a wall. “I was the oldest, and I loved all my brothers and sisters dearly. You have to, in the mines—you depend on them and they depend on you. They are all you have, but—I would never have chosen anyone else. Not for my siblings, and certainly not for Pap and Mam.”

He looked down at the crumbs of bread, which remained untouched. “Pap took me under his wing. As the oldest, I would be the first to learn how to tame the fire whisper.”

“Fire whisper?”

Midro seemed to expect my question. “It hisses—the powder and the line. When we reach a new area of the mines, someone needs to know how to fire whisper, to burn the area up.”

I thought of the chemistry in my head. Pure, raw zenite was considered flammable, and it seemed like the worst possible idea to ignite it. But at the same time, maybe “whisper” was literal—a tiny spark leading to a mighty bang.

“When I was 15 years of age, I was trained to fire whisper. Pap was the only one in our sect of miners—the highest position a miner could possess, next to being a leader. It was an honor, and I was very excited to have this knowledge with… him.”

At that, Midro jumped up—I knew the moment had been bouncing in his legs, and it moved to his arms as he talked animatedly. “But one day _they_ came.”

“Who?”

“The Disrupters—lead by the Dread Pirate V.”

I thought about the age of the Woman in Black and shook my head. “But she’s younger than you. How was she a part of these pirates?”

Midro paused a moment. “Looks can be deceiving.”

I bit my tongue. I needed to hear the story and hash out the details later.

“When they came, they were all masked. And because they were untrained in fire whisper, their explosion was devastating as it ripped through the mines.”

“Why would they blow things up?”

“To destroy all that imprisons the Troglytes—not realizing that it is who we _are_ as Troglytes,” Midro hissed. “They would have you believe a dead Troglyte is better than an enslaved one.”

In Starfleet, there were many societies that would agree with that notion. But I would be with Midro, here—at least when you were alive, there was always _hope_.

“The Disrupters would blow up the mines, hijack our shipments, and do whatever they could to usurp the cloud dwellers.” Midro took a deep breath. “But it all resulted in casualties, the death toll always too high.”

I had the worst feeling about this, but I leaned forward. “What happened to your family, Midro?”

He bit his bottom lip, pacing furiously. “We heard the hiss of the whisper before the guard alerted us. Pap, he—he went to stop it. Stop another explosion that would kill so many, and leave so many others devastated.” He stopped abruptly, his eyes trained on the cave wall. “But Pap—he was not in time.”

A man in his formative years depended so much upon his parents. To have one ripped away—I could understand the devastation.

“Mam was severely burned as she tried to go in after him. I had led my siblings to safety, although what I wanted most was to help my Pap. Mam, she—she died several days later. The cloud physicians said it was too much… too much.”

In my many years as a doctor, I saw all sorts of grief take place among the young and the old. Every kind you could think of—outright sobbing, to anger, to absolute shock or detachment.

But on Midro’s face was a deadly calm. “That day, after I told my siblings what had happened, I knew I had my first responsibility as a man—to hunt down the Disrupters and kill their leader.” He sat back down on the bed. “I would have no one suffer like we did— _no more_.”

I swallowed. I couldn’t help but justify his anger. The fact that he was left to care for five siblings, their family torn apart—it would be understandable to anyone, the utter devastation of a hopeful life suddenly burnt out.

But as Midro picked up the bread again, he ended simply, “And so I must kill the Dread Pirate V.”

He popped the piece in his mouth, the calm more like a determination that things would be fine in the world. After this lunch, no doubt, Midro had plans to complete what his life had been focused on—then perhaps move on and be at peace.

But the question still remained. “Midro, doesn’t she seem too young to have been at that event?”

The Woman in Black looked no older than her mid-20s—certainly not much older than Jim or Spock. Midro, on the other hand, seemed closer to my age—youthful in his late-30s, but still crucially older than the Dread Pirate V.

Midro seemed unfazed, however. “With the explosion, no one really pays attention to the details—the age or the gender. Considering myself, it is quite possible that this woman was trained early.”

Narrowing my eyes at him it clicked for me, the whole scenario clear as a bell.

“It’s symbolic,” I said to his bent head. “You just want the leader, no matter who it was or used to be. You just want to take them down.”

Midro didn’t answer this, taking a long sip of wine.

“Your friend Anka must be the same.”

At that Midro ticked a finger. “We are not friends.”

“But you both have a common goal.”

Midro shrugged, then looked at my hands still clasped on my thighs. “Are you finished, then?”

I wasn’t, and I took another chunk of bread. Maybe the longer he waited for me, the more time all of this would have to make sense.

He swilled another sip of wine before eyeing me with a steady gaze. “It is your turn now.”

I chewed my bread slowly. The grains clacked against my teeth, but I barely noticed them. There had been an exchange of sorts, and I knew I had to fulfill my end of the bargain, somehow.

“I’m a physician,” I started. “I work on the starship orbiting this planet. I came down to work out details with the cloud dwellers about a mineral, but things fell through.”

Midro leaned forward. “So you contacted the Dread Pirate V?”

I shook my head. “Nothing of the sort. I only met her once I unboarded a hijacked airship and dragged the Princess across the plains to the forest.”

He puzzled that a moment. “You met her by chance?”

“I wish—she was coming after _us_.”

It was the truth, in a way. Midro didn’t have to know about Jim and Spock. And speaking of—if Vulcans found it okay to play such subterfuge, I had no issue tooling with it myself.

And Midro seemed more concerned about connections rather than the tip-toeing I was employing. “How did you meet?”

“Well, I’m not the strongest guy. I thought I could maybe out-run her and hide Droxine.”

“You were the one that kidnapped the Princess?” I nodded, and Midro huffed. “Everyone is convinced it was the Disrupters.”

“Well, Plasus knows who really took her—he got a ransom note. He was supposed to give up his shipment of zenite to get her back, and that would be that.”

“But you met the Dread Pirate V?”

“She chased us, and eventually she… knocked me out to kidnap Droxine for herself.”

Midro leaned back, satisfied. “So it _was_ the Disrupters.”

“And when I woke up, she was gone. So I went into the forest, thinking that’s where she went, and I came across her comatose and covered in leaves.”

Midro’s eyes focused on the mostly-empty plate of food, as if thinking over the scenario of events. “You were helping her when I came across you.”

“Of course I was, I’m a doctor. I would help _you_ if you needed it, and I’m about to be put on one of those—one of those _racks_.”

I didn’t want to think about it too much. The idea of being tortured was bad enough, but what Anka hinted seemed more like intentional brutality—sadism, actually.

Midro seemed to think on that further—suddenly the thinker, and so different from the angry man minutes before. If he hadn’t been so impassioned, perhaps I’d do him the disservice of saying he faked it.

But instead his eyes flitted to mine, solemn and burning. “Then doctor, you are a better man than I.”

And when he left with our plates, the intensity of his eyes stayed with me and wouldn’t let me go.

 

 **(** “So Midro is more of a bad guy.”

There was a pinch in Spock’s brows. “I do not follow you.”

Joanna sighed, as if it were plainly obvious. “The whole Vanna thing is understandable, but the stuff he goes through to kill her makes him awful.” She glanced at Leonard. “I mean, he even offered up—offered up _Dad_ when Anka got mad at him.”

Spock thought that over. “That could be one conclusion.”

Joanna folded her legs together, leaning closer. “Okay, then another conclusion would be that he’s bumbling and falling into things, just playing along to get what he wants. That kind of makes him a coward, though.”

“A strong word, but that is also a possibility.”

Leonard huffed. “Joey, psychology for humanoids is complicated. We do all sorts of things that are wrong, and know they’re wrong, because sometimes the end goal seems worth it. But ‘good’ people make the same mistakes—and yes, sometimes they fall and bumble into them.”

“Well—“ and Joanna folded her arm, stymied in the argument. She didn’t know what they wanted her to say. “Whatever, then.”

“You may find more facts to form a theory, if I may continue the story.”

Leonard tapped the edge of Spock’s chair as he got up. “Sounds like a grand idea to me. Need to check on my burn patients and a maternity appointment.”

Spock tilted his head. “You may proceed.”

Leonard made a predictable face at that, before kissing Joanna on the forehead. “Good luck with him, Joey.”

But only when the partition was pulled back did Spock spare an annoyed glance. “Likewise.” **)**


	4. Tribulations

It did not take an unreasonable amount of time to deduce what triggered the opening of the tree. Once Droxine had fallen backwards and the door had shut, Jim had used his usual method of wits to determine a solution—which encompassed punching every knot of bark that was apparent. 

He swore, and then, “Spock, this isn’t working.”

“Perhaps it is a timed mechanism.”

“What, and she just happened to lean at the right _time?_ ” Jim shook his head. “I’m going to lean like she did, and you watch what I’m hitting.”

He braced an arm against the bark, watching with eagerness. He switched spots quickly, his impatience evident. While Jim tended to rush head-long into danger, he also never liked to wait for it.

“Perhaps it is a matter of weight pressed in a certain spot.”

“Yeah, but Droxine practically weighs _nothing_.”

“She must weigh at least fifty kilograms—“

Jim waved me off. “I mean, we’re stronger and heavier than _she_ is. If she set it off that way, I should barrel right through it.” He sighed in immense exasperation and kicked a root. “No doubt whoever lives down there is stronger and heavier too. So how do _they_ get in?”

I examined the surface of the bark, my eidetic memory recalling exactly how she leaned. “Considering reasonable security cautions for most species, perhaps it is not a matter of one fixture opening the door.”

Jim’s face dawned with awareness as I pressed with my hand and aligned the toe of my boot into a groove.

“Spock!”

I felt the back of my uniform grabbed as the door swung open. Fortunately I had anticipated falling in and leaned backwards, but the dark and steep stairway was still disorientating to peer into.

Jim didn’t let go of my uniform, his hand only moving to a shoulder as he rounded to stand next to me. “Wow.”

“Indeed.”

It appeared to go quite a distance, with sconces on the walls barely illuminating our view of the empty stairwell.

It begged a question, however. “I do not see Droxine.”

“Maybe she—“ Jim’s voice echoed, and he toned it down. “God, I hope she didn’t fall.”

“Or maybe she was captured.” Considering the fifteen-point-three minutes we spent figuring out the apparatus, it was an adequate amount of time.

However, the stone stairs curved gradually from the entrance. “If Droxine fell, I would assume the angle would have caught and snagged her fall.”

Jim nodded, but only seemed half-convinced. “I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

“It does appear foreboding.” With that I moved forward to pass him, and placed one foot gingerly on the stone landing. The action echoed and I halted, preparing for any possible consequences it would trigger. But the step remained solid, and a minute passed in silence as Jim braced himself.

When nothing occurred, Jim stepped in front of me.

“I’m going first,” he whispered. And without argument—it would require time, and I have learned it takes immense and intricate persuasion in these matters—I let him go ahead.

I looked behind me momentarily, grabbing the first thick branch I saw to wedge in the door. It was the width of my wrist and had considerable weight, seeming adequate. Yet it would likely creak or crack once the entrance closed, and I followed Jim quickly to warn him of such an event.

But as I touched his arm, what I heard was the branch cracking and snapping in half, startling both of us to turn around. The wood splintered and ricocheted off the walls, echoing past us as the entrance slammed shut—entirely too loud, entirely unnecessary.

Yet after a minute, nothing else happened. There were no guards, nor mysterious inhabitants to greet us. Instead my eyes adjusted to the lighting, watching as Jim took a relieved breath.

“Nice try, Spock,” he whispered, then motioned towards the staircase. “Guess the only way out is down.”

It was an undesirable situation we had spiraled into, each cause and effect tumbling into this moment. But as we had Doctor McCoy, Droxine, and Vanna to rescue, there was no time to doubt ourselves. We proceeded around the corner and further downward, careful with our footsteps.

The stone staircase was steep and circular, unwinding sharply in the dim lighting. It was difficult to go quickly, yet difficult to slow down as we saw the first hues of light from an open chamber.

There was also a familiar voice echoing towards us.

“Dammit, what have they done to you?”

I looked to Jim, who was also alarmed at how loudly _we_ could hear the good doctor—and possibly anyone else.

With Jim almost tripping, we rushed down to the bottom. Jim sprinted forward with great lack of regard for himself—my hands itched to pull the same uniform-gripping maneuver from earlier, to rein him in. But once we reached the landing our footsteps reverberated off stone walls, and Jim skidded to a stop as he tried to quiet the echoing.

There was a decorated antechamber and a wide hall that led to where McCoy’s voice seemed to originate. Perhaps it was useless at this juncture, but we walked cautiously forward and picked a wall to skim, with both of our hands grabbing randomly at any object that seemed to be of some veritable weight.

Jim held a long iron rod, perhaps a brand, while I gripped the edges of a heavy glass bowl, ready for any defensive maneuver.

“It’s inhumane, that’s what it is. The Federation is going to have a field day—“

Jim turned the corner and I followed—where we both came across a startling sight.

One wall was covered with a series of metal cogs and gears, seeming to compose a large, interlocking mechanical apparatus. It trailed from the ceiling and grew larger as it connected to a wooden table near the ground. There Vanna was strapped in her torn black clothing, while McCoy hovered over her with his concern and angry muttering.

It was fortunate that they appeared to be alone.

McCoy jerked up quickly at our entrance, then eased when he recognized us. “About damn time you arrived.”

“Miss us, Bones?” Jim said with uneasy amusement as he lowered the brand in his hand. He walked towards the doctor and the apparatus, his eyes wide in observing our surroundings.

“No time for jokes. This woman needs to get to Sickbay.”

I stood next to both of them, noticing the bruises and pale sheen of Vanna’s skin. “Does your voodoo bring individuals back from the dead, Doctor?”

McCoy gave me a look of annoyance. “She is on the edge, certainly. I’ll need whatever help I can get.”

“All right—Spock, you carry her,” Jim said as he began to look around us, moving to the center of the chamber. “Bones, did you see Droxine?”

McCoy struggled with Vanna’s straps until I offered to break her binds. They were made of a thick material that rested directly on bare skin, and they were composed of metallic wires and cords that I could discern through my fingertips. With my strength I eventually tore them apart, while my mind speculated that the mechanical apparatus likely delivered an electrical current that pulsed through them—which would make this a torture device.

It was information I hoarded as I carefully hoisted Vanna over my shoulder, freeing McCoy to answer Jim’s question.

“Hell if I know. I was in a cell for hours, when there was a loud commotion out here. I quietly followed my guard out, where he rushed to help two others as they departed over there—“ McCoy nodded to a corridor. “I did see a flash of blonde hair.”

Jim exchanged a look with me, as we both knew their likely captive.

McCoy narrowed his eyes at us. “You eventually found Droxine? What happened?”

But Jim ignored him as he peered at the aforementioned corridor. His silence meant he was thinking of a solution, of which I could already predict I would not care for.

He came back to us, solemnly stating, “I’m going to look in that passageway. You two try to find an exit, and I’ll meet you above.”

“Captain, as our entrance cannot be our exit, it would be logical to explore the chambers together, rather than to separate.”

Jim avoided my stern gaze. “Do you know where the exit might be, Bones?”

McCoy huffed. “My guard left twice in the opposite direction. But Jim, we’re not leaving without—“

“You’re both going. That’s an order.”

His statement burned the last metaphorical nerve I had with the situation. “I disagree with your decision. You will be alone and unarmed, and you may possibly become trapped. ”

“Duly noted.” Jim had a hard stare, devoid of any friendliness. “I’ll see you both later.”

“This is illogical and it endangers you.”

But Jim did not acknowledge my statement, as he quickly turned into the corridor and disappeared from view.

It was disconcerting how quickly that happened. I could not even hear his footsteps, when before they echoed and announced our arrival. I surmised that the structure, outfitted with draperies and floor coverings, had been precisely decorated for that purpose.

McCoy looked just as uneasy. “I don’t like it either, Spock.”

“Then perhaps a more uncertain answer would have been your best option.” I adjusted Vanna in my arms, her weight feeling incredibly light for what I expected.

McCoy scoffed. “Well, I’ll be—you, a Vulcan, wanted me to lie to our captain?”

“It is not lying to excise details.” I looked at the opposing corridor McCoy had hinted. “I am presuming this passageway leads to your cell.”

McCoy snorted, but nodded his head. “We’re discussing this _later_.” He started towards the passage. “Over a good Saurian Brandy.”

“I do not imbibe needlessly.”

“For _me_ ,” he whispered as we started down the dark corridor.

Thankfully his brand of humor was cast aside as we entered, for it was entirely too silent to risk. While our footsteps did not echo, we were able to hear many sounds that seemed beyond the iron-barred chambers we passed. Over a hundred yards of walls and cells, and the sounds of dripping seemed to encroach. I suspected we would soon reach an underground lake or waterfall—perhaps the very source that generated power for the torture device.

“It is peculiar,” I murmured softly, “that your jail cell was near the exit.”

McCoy shrugged and whispered back, “Midro would go this way. I don’t know what to tell ya.”

“I do not disbelieve, Doctor.” But it was still peculiar.

We passed another hundred yards of walls and dispersed cells in a curved fashion. The design was naturally made from the cavern, and it was smartly incorporated. The corridor had orange and mauve floor coverings that absorbed the impact of our footsteps, while gold tapestries hung beside the containment cells.

It suggested a place that was built for surprises.

“I hear water, Spock.”

“As do I.”

But once we rounded our next corner we fell into a jarring and pitch black chamber—the carpeting and tapestries were gone. Quite suddenly our actions echoed, and this included our breath.

McCoy harshly inhaled at the abrupt change.

“Spock, I can’t—“ he hushed when his voice amplified.

I shook my head, although I assumed he could not see it and risked murmuring, “A moment for our bearings.”

Where the previous chambers were dimly lit, our current path offered no such visibility. It was gravely disconcerting, considering the water that dripped loudly in our vicinity—but it certainly clarified why the jail cells were not a concern in this area.

McCoy lightly touched my forearm and whispered, “Sorry, Spock. Just wanted to feel around you. I’m going to go get one of those wall sconces we saw.”

“I will stay here,” I said, feeling the brief hints of worry, frustration, and apology in his touch. As much as I chastise the good doctor, he is thankfully cognizant of my issues, and his hands quickly avoided me as he moved forward.

“Right,” he said gruffly, and it echoed lightly. He stepped beside me, feeling for the wall which curved and went back into the light.

One reason for my position, besides staying where I may easily be located, was to discern through audio clues what lay beyond us. The sounds of water were repetitive, and I counted mere seconds between each drop; which was consistent in the 12 minutes I measured. It was not reassuring in any capacity, the impression that we might encounter a waterfall or underground lake in complete darkness.

But my second eyelid blinded me momentarily as pitch black was suddenly illuminated.

“Had to hunt for this,” McCoy whispered, gesturing to the broom handle that was now a torch. “Broke into a cell.”

It was a meter in length with a ridged stem, and the splintered end was wrapped in layers of cloth. “I believe it will work.”

McCoy held the torch high for visibility, yet it only illuminated our immediate area. We could all see each other, and McCoy peered at Vanna, who seemed lifeless in my grasp.

“Let’s get this over with. She ain’t got all day.”

I adjusted my grip and allowed the doctor to move ahead of me. Only walls seemed suggested for a time, the torchlight unrevealing if there were any variances of height or color. None of these details changed when McCoy stopped abruptly in front of me, causing Vanna’s legs to unfortunately push him.

He put an arm out to grab them, and then murmured, “Well, there ya go.”

“Explain.”

He turned his head slightly. “Got a drop here. No idea how far down. But I hear that water echoing from it.”

Indeed, that did explain much. No light combined with a precipice, and it seemed an unfortunate end for anyone that dared escape—again, this underground cavern was smartly utilized.

“Yet the occupants of this chamber went this way.”

The light moved as McCoy attempted to look beyond him.

“There might be a ledge—God, it’s narrow. And yeah, he headed here. We didn’t pass anything, did we? ”

“Not that I am aware of. Yet this is unreasonable.”

“Maybe there’s something below us, and the water is further than we think. They might bring a ladder or something.”

A possible solution, but tenuous. “If that is correct, I doubt they carry the ladder on their person.”

As the good doctor does on occasion, I received a blank stare in reply before my insinuation sunk in.

Once again the light moved to analyze around us. “I don’t see a ladder anywhere, Spock.”

“Then there must be a simpler solution.”

“Rope?”

“Convenient to keep on one’s person while traveling.”

“Then how the hell are _we_ gonna get that?”

I confess I made an exasperated huff, his irritation irrationally inflaming and underlining much of my own. “We may need to backtrack for resources.”

“There are the tapestries, I guess.” But McCoy did not seem appeased with that, nor was I. “Dammit.”

“Agreed.”

He rubbed his face. “I can feel it itching, too—I can barely think.”

I did not have time for such emotional digressions. We needed to find the exit, and we needed to regroup with Jim. “Doctor, that is unfortunate. But we must find a solution.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do!”

“There is no reason to be combative.”

“I’m not being— _Spock_.” He put out a hand. “Hold on.”

“We do not have the time—“

“Shut the _hell_ up and listen.” McCoy edged closer to me, his face stern. “Take a breather.”

“We do not have the luxury.”

“And we can’t be sniping at each other—especially when it isn’t _us_.” McCoy pointed between us, then recanted, “Well, not usually.” He frowned. “During missions, anyway.”

I took a deep breath, yet anger still rankled all my nerves and thoughts.

McCoy pointed around us. “I guess we’re not immune.”

It seemed a divergent topic, until I realized exactly what he was referring to.

“The zenite.”

He nodded. “Now detrimental to Humans _and_ Vulcans.” He gave a wry smile. “Just a barrel of surprises, this damn planet. So glad we’re vacationing here.”

I bit back my retort, logic remembering that McCoy often made light of serious situations. It did not ease my irritation, yet it offered optimism for my Vulcan faculties.

I took another deep breath. “I will send my shore leave recommendations to Starfleet.”

McCoy gave a sharp laugh, too loud in the cavern, and yet it thankfully eased the tension.

He turned around again, peering over the ledge. “Well, let’s figure out how you can do that.”

It was still problematic, especially when I could not see the ledge clearly. Yet I inched closer, wanting all the details of our circumstance.

“There must be a solution.” One being that McCoy was perhaps mistaken, and we should backtrack to another corridor.

Cognizant of the woman on my shoulder, I straightened carefully before making my suggestion—which was fortunate, as I clearly felt an object brush the top of my head.

“Doctor, look above me.” It was perhaps a spiderweb, or—

McCoy turned around, raising the torch as he squinted. His eyes dawned with awareness a moment later.

“Well, of course,” he muttered. “Why would they go down when everything is up?”

Shifting my balance, I followed his line of sight—where the edge of a black net was visible, hanging slightly over the top of the chamber’s entryway.

It did indeed make sense. However—“We may still need some rope.”

“God, how are we hefting her up there?” He looked over at her form. “Heck, how are _we_ even getting up there?”

A plan was already formulating in my mind. “Do you believe you could bear Vanna’s weight for five minutes?”

McCoy nodded, although he stared at Vanna curiously. “That’s her name?”

“There are many details I have learned quite recently.”

“Well, then I carried Vanna for _hours_. Five minutes ain’t nothin’.”

It was what I expected. “Then you will carry Vanna while I hoist the both of you.”

McCoy raised his brows with exaggerated skepticism. “ _Pardon_ me?”

“As you carry her momentarily, I will provide you with assistance in reaching the net. Once you are secure in your footing, I will follow you and, once I am also secure in my position, I will relieve you of her weight.” I looked upward. “It is the only possible solution I can discern, if we are to climb this wall.”

His skepticism did not ease as he surveyed our limited view. “We don’t know how far this thing goes.”

“Then perhaps we should start as soon as possible.”

McCoy turned his head, glancing over my frame. I knew as a doctor he was contemplating my abilities, likely contrasting with his own. But a moment later he silently nodded his assent.

Awkward maneuvering was required as we exchanged Vanna and the torch. McCoy took her weight with a grunt. “How are you gettin’ up there, Spock?”

“I believe I have enough upper body strength to lift myself.” Our entry’s apex was a half-meter above my head, yet the netting extended far below it. I grabbed at the edge of it, noticing the holes of the structure could easily contain a foot, and when I yanked it mildly stretched. “You will need to hold her with one arm.”

McCoy looked up at the netting with obvious doubt, yet was also resigned. “For your sake, I hope this isn’t long.”

“As it is our only exit,” I wedged the torch in a deep wall fracture, satisfied when it did not fall or extinguish, “the distance will be determined, soon enough.”

“ _God_ ,” McCoy huffed, watching as I interlocked my hands on bended knee. “Remind me never to go along so easily with Jim’s stupid plans again.”

“As he is your Captain, as well as mine, that will be difficult to adhere to.”

McCoy wrapped an arm securely around Vanna’s waist, the body slumping into his side. He had a moment’s pause while looking up, trying to gain his courage or his bearings. But after grumbling interesting vernacular he stepped his left foot into my locked hands, surging upward after our quiet countdown to three.

On the third he gripped the netting above him, his feet struggling to catch on the mesh as my hands were pushing him upward. There was a precarious moment where his stepped on my shoulders, and Vanna veered and swung from his body. But momentum crashed them back to the cavern wall, where the doctor was able to cling and stand in the black net.

“God, Spock,” he said, sounding strangely out of breath. “I might die of a heart attack if you don’t get your butt up here.”

“Vanna might find it inconvenient if you perish.”

McCoy muttered expletives as I analyzed the entryway, pondering the likelihood of attaching the torch to the netting without setting it aflame. “We must leave our light source behind.”

“I am punching Jim when I see him. Square in the jaw.”

I stood under the entryway, at an angle with the cavern wall. “As much as I do not condone such violence, I wish for you to have the opportunity to do so.”

At that I jumped for the netting, my hands gripping and tangling themselves in several holes. I swung my legs to the arch as I pulled myself upward, my feet slipping against the stone surface as I tried to gain leverage. It took several attempts, but my boot found a fracture to wedge into, and this offered momentum as my legs pressed against the cavern wall. My upper body strength pulled me upward as I grabbed at the netting—where my hands would occasionally miss, yet easily recover—and I lifted myself to the point of standing on the fracture. From there my feet securely stepped into the black mesh, and I was soon dangling from the large expanse of wall.

I climbed my way to McCoy, where he seemed quite angry with me.

“I take that back—I’m punching _you_ when we reach the surface.”

“I have gained my bearings. I will wrap an arm around her waist, and we will maneuver her arms and chest over my shoulder. I will then instruct when you may let go.”

I ignored all grumbling as we positioned ourselves. McCoy held still as I maneuvered a knee behind Vanna’s thigh, a barrier if she should slip or lean the wrong way.

“You may let go.”

However as McCoy released her, it was only his arm pressing against her back that rolled her properly onto my shoulder, sparing the both of us from falling backwards with momentum.

“God, I’m going to die. Not from falling, but from worrying over your behind.”

“When you are sufficiently calm, you may proceed in attempting to climb upwards.”

“I can’t see a damn thing.”

The torch’s glow was dim at our proximity, and it was not promising for a long journey ahead. In fact, the entire situation did not hold much promise—it made me concerned for Jim’s current predicament, and whether he would have to made the same choices with Droxine, especially unconscious.

“Okay, feelin’ my way up.”

If Jim did not meet us at the surface, I would find the tree and explore the caverns.

“Spock, stop thinking so damn loud. I’m worried about him, too.”

I hefted Vanna close my shoulder, her limp hands briefly brushing my back, and I prepared to move upward. “Then you will understand my need for haste.”

“Hey, I’m not a spider monkey.” But within minutes he had set a steady pace, his feet taking overly-precautious steps from one foot holding to another, intuiting his way up the cavern wall.

I found it slightly more difficult, as I relied on one arm to support more than my own body weight. While I felt competent enough for such an extreme circumstance it was painful after 15 minutes of our climb, and almost excruciating as that time doubled.

However, when I estimated we had traversed 500 meters, McCoy could not contain his enthusiasm.

“Thank God—I see light, Spock. Light and an edge.”

I did not perceive such things in my vision, as I was focused on the cavern wall in front of me and the body draped over my shoulder.

“Hold on, scrambling over it now—ah, _damn_.”

I chanced a glance upward, seeing the thin haze of light. “Doctor?”

There was a disconcerting silence as my mind considered other possibilities. Perhaps that McCoy was captured, of worse—

A whip of sound went past my ear as I heard a grunt from above.

“Coming back down, Spock.”

My eyes could barely focus, but there was a rope swaying next to me.

I looked up. “Doctor, there is no need—“

But after seven minutes of McCoy descending towards me, he grabbed the rope and held it near us: It contained a large hook at the end of it.

“Maybe they use it for supplies,” he moved next to Vanna, his eyes searching her form. “You think we could hook her?

I was exhausted, but it did not seem safe. Yet McCoy wrapped it under her arms before folding several knots, then hooked the belt at her waist.

McCoy met my eyes. “You can stay with her, but it’ll make things easier on you.”

As McCoy held Vanna in place with his arm, I slowly released her—feeling the nerves come back to life as there was a tingling in my shoulder, the hook and rope proving to work.

I flexed my fingers and McCoy did a self-satisfied grunt. “ _Knew it_.”

“Thank you,” I said, although I still did not trust the rope.

McCoy moved upward. “I’ll start pulling if you want to keep climbing.”

“I will proceed once you have done so.”

The ten minutes it took for him to reach the ledge was a decent rest, while Vanna still dangled lightly against my shoulder.

There was a tug, and then, “All right, I’m pulling.”

I was concerned for the doctor’s strength, as he had been climbing further than myself and was now pulling another body. But it did accelerate my journey as we both lifted Vanna up the cavern wall, quickening my pace. When we were three feet from the ledge McCoy took over completely, dragging her to safety.

“You doin’ okay?” McCoy yelled over the side. And from his actions I intuited that we were alone, the cavern’s occupants still fortunately absent.

“I will be there momentarily.” I weakly clung to the netting, both of my fingers losing sensation and the strength to grip. It was disconcerting to be powerless, using my mental faculties to ignore the pain in my biceps and the stiffness in my shoulders.

But once I reached the ledge I felt hands on my arms, helping to pull me over.

McCoy panted and dropped to the ground once I was secure, finally revealing his exhaustion.

“Once we find Jim, I’ll likely just fall on him.” McCoy put out a hand as I tried to stand up. “We’re good, just lay there a minute. Doctor’s orders.”

I blinked at the cavern ceiling, grateful for the repose. Yet it also occurred to me that Jim was still missing—we were technically on the surface, but he was not waiting for us.

Perhaps he was in the clearing with the tree, hiding with Droxine.

I turned my head and saw Vanna next to us on her back, untied and lifeless. It was a sobering view while considering our circumstances, and it forced me to sit up.

“Once we are away from the caves we should contact the _Enterprise_.”

“God, I’m not 20 anymore, I forget sometimes.” McCoy sat up to join me, crawling on his knees to examine Vanna’s condition. “I’ll carry her.”

“I am adequately rested, but I will scout the entrance before we depart.”

It was enough time to gauge my readiness while allowing McCoy the chance for further repose. He would need his strength in order to move out of the forest and to be beamed aboard the _Enterprise_ , as I doubted the ship would receive our signal from the caves.

Once they were beamed aboard, I would be able to backtrack to find Jim.

“No funny business, Spock. We’re not separating.”

“As Vanna’s condition is deteriorating—“

“I’m a doctor, I can see that.” He shook a finger at me. “I know you, Spock. You want to find Jim, and you’ll go to any means to do so.”

“As first officer, it is my duty to ascertain the Captain’s location and to provide assistance—“

“’Ass” is in ‘ascertain’.”

I frowned. “Technically it is not.”

“We’re not separating.” He sat beside Vanna as his hand waved me off. “Go scout. But once you get back we’re finding that entrance, and we will ‘ascertain’ Jim’s location _together_.”

“That will waste precious time—“

“I know. But the sooner we find Jim, and hopefully Droxine, perhaps the sooner I’ll know how to treat _her_.” McCoy looked at Vanna mournfully. “For all I know, she is practically dead already.”

As the doctor lifted her wrist to find a pulse, I went to the entrance 50 meters away and saw the dim hues of evening. The lighting was not promising—finding the clearing with the tree seemed foreboding in the darkness, and I did not relish the odds of being able to do so. Even worse was traveling the forest at night—which seemed likely even if we made haste, as the distance to the edge of the woods was unknown.

Perhaps McCoy would have to come with me, one way or the other.

“Ready, Spock?” McCoy said behind me, his frame showing obvious weariness in carrying Vanna.

I offered my arms. “Yes. We will both find the clearing.”

“Glad you got some sense in ya.” He handed her over, his back straightening with the lack of weight. “It must be nearby anyway, we didn’t go very far down there.”

“That is my impression, as well.”

And with that we both followed the side of the cavern entrance until it was no more, hoping to find that clearing in the woods.

 

 **(** Joanna rested her elbows on her knees, waiting for Spock to continue.

When he didn’t, she rolled her eyes. “More dramatic posturing?”

“On the contrary, I am waiting for the next individual to appear and tell their section of the story.”

“Like you don’t know it?”

Spock opened his mouth to speak, closed it, and then, “I am quite aware of the events. However, I was under the impression we were following a particular method of story-telling.”

Joanna watched as Spock glanced at the empty Sickbay doors, his mind seeming to deliberate options before settling on a solution.

“As the Doctor and I tried to locate the clearing, the Captain had issues of his own in trying to join us.” **)**

 

Jim traveled in the opposite direction of the holding cells, noticing that the passages became more labyrinthe in scope, seemingly impossible to navigate.

“Where are breadcrumbs at a time like this,” he muttered, trying to determine how to form a torch of his own.

 

 **(** “I would _never_ say anything like that.”

Joanna and Spock looked over at the hospital partition, where Jim smirked at the both of them.

“I am quite aware that your version is more... colorfully verbose.”

“That’s why you have to leave it to the master.” Jim motioned with his thumb for Spock to stand. “Your turn on the bridge.”

As they exchanged places, there was the striking of matches again—held low without outward acknowledgement, with Jim making more of a production out of stealing Spock’s chair.

Jim grinned as he sat sideways, cradling the back. “Have fun without me.”

“As is often the case when the cat’s away,” Spock said solemnly, and Jim put a hand to his chest.

“ _Ouch._ I knew you guys were having parties without me.”

“There is a different atmosphere, certainly.”

As Spock left, Jim pointed at the partition. “Can you believe that guy? _Mean_ to me.”

Joanna rolled her eyes. “Can we get back to the _good_ stuff?”

“And here I thought there was no ‘good stuff’.”

“The cave part was interesting,” Joanna admitted, especially when Leonard seemed to save Spock’s behind, near the end.

Jim twisted in his seat. “I told you that Spock was a great storyteller.”

Joanna did a half-shrug, noncommittal either way, and Jim let it go.

“Anyway, as the Master Storyteller was saying—“ **)**

 

“What the hell, where’s a sign when you need it?” 

Spock probably had a good point about not breaking off in the caves, but I wasn’t about to admit it then. My main goal had been to get them all out, especially with Vanna as dire as she looked. Bones couldn’t do it on his own, as much as I wanted Spock to help me find Droxine. So in the end, as much as Spock can be right sometimes—okay, right most of the time, but don’t tell him that—I still would’ve been in those twisting caves alone, trying to figure out where to go.

It made sense to me to have such confusing paths, although it was incredibly frustrating. There was a main path I was on, lit with sconces on the wall, looking awfully fu— _freakin’_ medieval and creeping me out. But this path branched out to various other tunnels, which looked pitch black from where I stood, trying to rely on my instincts.

Which wasn’t doing me much good, truth be told.

“If I were a torturer-dude and a princess, where would I go...” I mumbled to myself, peering in each passage. Not that I could see anything in the darkness, but I had nothing else to go on. There were no tracks with the carpeted hallway, nor footfalls or voices to follow. Everything was eerily silent and unhelpful, and I was left wandering without a clue.

Basically, I was screwed. I decided to follow to the end of this pathway until inspiration struck—especially since I couldn’t believe it would lead me directly to where they were, considering how cave dwellers likely knew all the off-shoots.

Then again, who’s to say we were really dealing with cave dwellers?

I probably traveled a good half-hour that way, going cautiously straight as I looked at the paths that branched off. This cavern underneath was _long_ —somebody had really chosen well for a hideout, all things considered.

There was a part of me thinking I should really turn around and catch up with Spock and Bones—maybe Droxine wasn’t even freaking here, after all—when I heard echoing voices.

“Do you take me for a fool, Princess?” sneered a voice from up ahead, trying to keep quiet.

There were sounds of a struggle, and I hid in one of the adjoining passageways as I tried to listen.

“You’ll never get away with this!” Droxine cried, not in the same eagerness to be quiet. “No one is dumb enough to fall for you!”

“ _Silence!_ ” which was followed by a slap. “You will keep your tongue, if you wish to _keep_ your tongue.”

I looked around, searching for a weapon when there clearly was none. My best element was surprise, but that was difficult to determine when they were likely in a tunnel up ahead—and who knows _how_ far off.

I peered around the edge, trying to devise the best way to sneak up on them, when there was a sudden flurry up ahead. A robed man pulled a gagged Droxine by her bindings as they headed down the cavern.

She twisted and put up a fuss. I looked over at the robed man, who didn’t seem all that imposing. Maybe he had caught Droxine by surprise, as he seemed kind of old and would likely be taken out by a good thwack.

 

 **(** “....What?”

Joanna just stared at Jim drolly, knowing what was next. “You didn’t.”

He shifted awkwardly in his seat. “Um, well, _anyway_ —“ **)**

 

When Droxine pulled hard enough on the rope to make him trip, he reached around to smack her again—and I couldn’t contain myself. 

“Stop, right where you are!” I yelled as I rushed forward. I figured if I was fast enough with a good kick, I could—

But a foot away I felt something hit the back of my head, and I stumbled to my knees.

Droxine turned towards me, and despite the gag in her mouth she had the audacity to roll her eyes.

“Did you say ‘dumb enough’, Princess?” the smooth voice sneered again, but behind me.

I blinked rapidly to try to maintain focus, but the robed man just snickered.

“Bwain versus bwawn.” He smiled gleefully down at me, his thick tongue now apparent. “Ob-obviouswy bwain is the winner.”

As I blacked out I saw the other man come into view, his regal authority apparent—and I cursed my bad luck.

 

 **(** “Is it really bad luck when it was obvious?” Joanna asked as a smirk played on her lips.

“You’re just as bad as your dad.”

“So what happened next?” Joanna moved on—surely twelve hours had been spent telling this, right? Or maybe it just felt like it.

But Jim smiled at that. Maybe there _were_ juicy parts coming up.

“We all went to the castle.”

Joanna was non-plussed. “So they technically rescued both of you?”

Jim gave a playful shrug, and Joanna narrowed her eyes.

“This gets worse, doesn’t it.”

Jim rearranged himself in the chair before continuing. “Well, you see, I felt rope on my wrists and ankles when I woke up...” **)**

 

The surroundings were pretty nice and the bed was the softest I’ve ever been on. But I was by myself, and hell if being tied up wasn’t suspicious. 

I tried to sit up, but all I did was roll over and onto the floor.

“Dammit,” I muttered, my face feeling the luxurious fibers of carpeting. But after a moment of nobody checking up on me, I decided to scooch my body together to sit on my knees, and eventually was able to find some balance to look up.

It wasn’t the room that Spock and I had seen on Stratos, which was too pink and orange and overflowing with mood lighting, but it was similar in its emphasis on overly prententious and beautiful things. Stone accents, lighter hues—more natural. There wasn’t a balcony, but the windows looked out into a clear blue sky—the day brighter than when I had left it, that’s for sure.

I guess I had slept a while.

“Come on, self.” I leaned against the bed, hoping I could straighten my legs. When I did I squished my toes in my boots, aiming to stand upright—and thankfully I succeeded. Because hell if there wasn’t a lot of furniture in there, and I could’ve cracked my head open with another fall.

But I hopped 360-degrees as I tried to get a good feel of the room. If this had been my apartment at the Academy, somebody would’ve banged a broom against the floor by now, telling me to shut up. But still there was silence, and it seemed that I was left to my own devices. A dangerous thing, in my view—I could see several objects I could rub these bindings against, hopefully to cut them.

The sharp edge of a table was about the right height. Unfortunately it was on the other side of the bed, but I could bunny hop like a pro.

 

 **(** Jim glared at Joanna as she covered her mouth. “You finished?”

She shook her head, needing a moment before she could finally look at him without giggling. “Do they teach that—“ she smirked, “at the Academy?”

“I need to talk to your dad about your sass,” Jim murmured, but then continued. **)**

 

Considering I had nothing to untie my feet, I hopped quickly to the end of the bed and tried not to lose my balance. But eventually I made it to the large wooden table, which had a natural and rustic aesthetic that was to my benefit, in that nobody had smoothed or sanded the edges. 

It was hard to align the rope without looking, and I knicked my arm a few time. But I eventually wedged a corner of the knot just right to sever the fibers, rubbing for a good several minutes before I felt some give.

When I was able to pull my arms apart I made a triumphant sound, shrugging off my bounds and going directly to my feet. That knot also took some time, but I hadn’t been a boy scout for nothing.

Once I was free I looked about the room, wondering what the trick was. Maybe there were guards outside the door—maybe there was a camera somewhere in the room. Maybe I was so high up in a place so intricate, they figured that if I escaped I wouldn’t have much chance of figuring it out.

But quiet minutes passed after I loosened my bindings, and the door looked incredibly inviting. I strode towards it and put my ear to the surface, listening for whatever might be on the other side.

That didn’t disappoint, as I heard the echo of footsteps on a hard floor approaching closer—and I had a hunch of where they were headed to.

It was too late to consider going out the window. So I grabbed a heavy vase on a podium next to me, a god-awful decorating accent that would hopefully come in handy, and stepped to the side of the sliding door.

There was a buzz—what did they think, I would answer?—before they slid open to reveal two guards. The vase landed on one head while I kicked the other in the stomach, smashing both helpless bodies together before I whirled around, ready to face whatever was next.

Too bad it was more guards who easily captured me and roughly hauled me backwards, throwing me on the bed. When I sat up there was a crossing of axes in front of my face, and I got the point.

Which was when Plasus decided to show his ugly, smirking mug in the doorway.

“What a show, Captain Kirk. And I even rang before I entered.”

I motioned to the guards. “What’s all of this? You know it is a Federation offense to imprison a Starfleet officer—“

“Just as it’s likely an offense to kidnap an official’s daughter, correct?”

Okay, he had a point. “She was never in any danger.”

“Of course not, Captain—would never think of such.” He stepped forward, appearing to contemplate his words. “However, it does put a kink in our negotiations.”

“You have never been interested in negotiating, Plasus,” I spat out, feeling the edges of the axe against my chest. “If this is negotiating, then I don’t think that word means what you think it means.”

“Temper, Kirk.” He wagged a finger at me. “Your hostility is not conducive. Perhaps a walk will ease some tension.”

“Where’s Droxine?” I blurted out, the events that had led me here suddenly rushing to consciousness. If the same people who kidnapped me had Droxine, and these people led me here—why would they tie up somebody they were likely trying to rescue?

“She is safe, Captain Kirk—no thanks to you.” He walked out of view, and I gritted my teeth as the guards stood me up, clamping both arms as we followed.

The stone corridors felt familiar from Stratos, so perhaps we were in the same place—just a different branch of the building, nothing more. The emphasis on art was similar, and we passed various different paintings, tapestries, and sculptures before we entered an open hall—definitely _not_ the one I recognized from Stratos, especially with the people in it.

Droxine stood beside a tall, blond gentleman. Despite the man wearing elegant garb with poise and presence, she did not look at home.

She wouldn’t meet my eyes, instead watching her father as he strode ahead of us and joined her side.

“Captain Kirk, I would like you to meet Eduar, the Prince of Cirrus and the head of all the cloud cities.”

That was when the blond gentleman turned to me, his fair and aristocratic face obviously displeased at acknowledging my presence—which, what, I know I was tumbling in the dirt, but _come on_.

“Starfleet,” he said curtly. “Your presence here has caused some disturbance.”

No kidding. “I assure you the _Enterprise_ , on behalf of the Federation, was only interested in the zenite that was promised to us.”

“And like I stated, Captain Kirk,” Plasus butted in, “as soon as we handled our little rebellion we would deliver the zenite as promised.”

“The people of Merak II don’t have time! Millions of lives are at stake as you try to quell a several century caste war.”

Plasus raised an eyebrow—not as epic as Spock’s, and certainly not as amusing—as he waved at the guards to restrain me further. This was them tightening their grips on my arms, their hands way stronger than mine and almost crushing bone.

I winced, but that couldn’t shut me up. “Plasus, regardless of how you feel about me or the Federation, please consider a whole planet of people who can’t wait another day—“

“Patience, Captain Kirk. Once we have tracked down the rebels who caused the disruption on Stratos—“

“The _Enterprise_ can help—“

“Silence!”

At that the guards spun me around and shoved me in the back, urging me towards another corridor which didn’t seem very promising. What was Plasus gonna do? Shove a Starfleet officer in a cell and keep me locked up forever? Surely he’d realize that the Federation would come along eventually, wanting to know what the hell was up.

But as we entered the archway of the corridor and I was planning to use a tapestry to blind a guard, we heard a voice call out, “Promise not to hurt him!”

Which was surprising, as I was pretty sure Droxine didn’t give a fig.

I was shoved again to turn around, and Droxine’s plaintive expression as she looked at me and then her father was surprisingly sincere.

“Father, promise not to hurt him,” Droxine said with her best pleading eyes. “I’m safe now. Please send him on his way, so Starfleet can leave.”

Plasus appeared to consider it, exchanging a glance with the Prince. But he placed a reassuring hand on Droxine’s shoulder, his smile as artificial as his good intentions.

“While normally we would punish those who harm us—“ he patted her long, blonde hair. “I will do as my daughter requests.”

I felt tightening hands behind me—yeah, _right_. He was talked into that rather easily.

But Droxine looked appeased by that, kissing her father on the cheek before racing over to me. Her concerned face scanned mine as she thought through something—perhaps a heartfelt and apologetic goodbye?

Instead she removed a large, blue necklace from around her neck, then held it before her. “A peace offering.”

It was ugly as hell, but she leaned forward as she lifted it over my head.

“Promise you’ll find Vanna,” she whispered as her fingers situated the chain on my skin. “They want to make her a scapegoat.”

And that made much more sense than Droxine wanting to be my friend. So when she stepped back I met her eyes, hopefully giving a barely perceptible nod before they carted me away.

Not that I was sure I could do much good, as they all led me to where I expected—a bright white prison cell, with heavy metal bars blocking my exit.

“Take it easy, Starfleet!” a guard cackled as the bars locked into place and I was blocked behind them, with not much recourse.

I sighed as I looked around, the natural aesthetics of Cirrus present, but with nothing to harm myself or others. There was a wooden table and I walked towards it, my eyes following the corners of the walls.

But let’s face it: I was _trapped_. Maybe for good. And my only hope at that point was for Spock and Bones to have found a way out, hopefully smart enough to just beam on board the _Enterprise_ and leave the zenite to someone else.

 

 **(** “Although some things are too much to wish for,” Jim said, looking keenly at Leonard as he came around the partition to join them.

Leonard made a note on his PADD, ignoring him. “Looking good, kiddo. Got two hours left though.”

Joanna buried her face in her hands. “This sucks.”

“As it should. I don’t need you crawlin’ in strange places around here.” Leonard sat down next to her bed, then looked over at Jim. “Okay, where are we?”

“I just got put in a prison cell.”

Leonard pointed a finger at him as he side-eyed Joanna. “This one here? A _genius_.”

“Well, this genius is _Captain_.”

“Like I can forget it.” Leonard made himself comfortable—which meant fiddling with Joanna’s water jug and cords from her bed—before asking, “My turn?”

Jim settled in as well, seemingly not interested in leaving. “You bet.”

“Well,” Leonard said, turning towards Joanna. “So Spock and I just wandered out from the caves, where I convinced his stubborn self to stick with me...” **)**


	5. Awakenings

Which was really something, let me tell you. But I knew Spock would never abandon Jim—logic be damned, although he’d protest otherwise—so following him was way easier than worrying about him on board the _Enterprise_. 

The sun was close to the horizon and hidden behind the trees, but we followed the wall of rock to our left. Which didn’t last too long, but that was all right—we hadn’t seen a hill or rock wall from the clearing, so it seemed like another sign that we were going in the right direction.

Except the forest looked suddenly foreign, and neither of us found a recognizable marker to steer by. All the trees were practically the same in color and size, the forest floor the same mixture of dirt, moss, and grass.

It looked nothing like the clearing with the quicksand, although the tricorder insisted we were in the same area. “We’re going south-west.”

“We were headed 36-degrees north-east when we came across the tree with the entrance.”

I nodded. “Tricorder has that in the memory, and it says it should be right over here—“ I took a few steps, but knew it didn’t feel right. “Damn. You think the tricorder could be wrong?”

Spock took a moment to answer, but I wasn’t sure whether it was from weariness or contemplation. “We were in the caverns for quite some time. It may have skewed our instrument.”

I swore under my breath. “Then how the hell are we even getting out of here?”

Spock didn’t have a retort for that one, so I continued moving ahead, keeping an eye on the steam fissures—although who knows how accurate my maneuvering was at that point.

But the tricorder still picked up on an approaching body, the size and speed suggesting that we had a spy near us.

“We’ve got a friend to our right,” I mumbled, knowing Spock’s keen hearing could pick it up. “Humanoid.”

Spock didn’t make a peep, and I wasn’t sure what we should do. Maybe he thought it was Jim—maybe _I_ hoped it was Jim. But he would’ve called out to us, not tried to be a sneaky about it.

So when the humanoid was too close I stopped and turned in that direction—just in time to see Midro charge at us from the bushes.

Spock dropped the tail end of Vanna and angled his body as a shield “Identify yourself.”

Midro had his sword pulled out and was sizing up Spock. “More Starfleet.”

“Midro,” I blurted, hoping to grab his attention. “Let us pass. You have no idea what Spock can do.”

Actually, _I_ had no idea what Spock could do, as we didn’t have any weapons.

And Midro must have known this, as he straightened and tried to look more imposing. “If you put down the pirate, I will promise not to hurt you... too much.”

Spock raised an eyebrow at the sword. “As skilled as you may be, I will surely best you.”

While Spock had some ninja skills, I didn’t see how quick-thinking moves could beat a sword.

So I rushed forward and put out my hands between them, trying to catch Midro’s eye. “Where did you take Droxine?”

I didn’t actually expect him to tell me—for all I knew, Midro had been sent to capture or defeat us, and could likely do so.

But Midro only smirked. “The Princess and your Captain are in safe hands—just as the both of you will be.”

 _That_ sounded promising. “So they are below?”

Midro shook his head, a grin appearing as his sword flicked to the sky. “Wider pastures, my friend.”

I quickly glanced at Spock—oh great, we lost Droxine _and_ Jim got captured by the government.

I felt a stabbing poke at my shoulder and was spun around. No sooner than I could blink I had Midro’s arm under my neck, the blade in front of us.

“Dare to move, and your friend will suffer dire consequences.”

Spock had the audacity to look non-plussed. “My precision is incredibly accurate.”

Midro huffed a laugh by my ear. “If that were true, we would not be having this conversation.”

Midro had a point, and his grip on me tightened. What the hell was Spock doing? I knew we weren’t the best of friends—but _still_.

“Drop the Dread Pirate V, and Leonard will not suffer at my hands

At that Spock didn’t hesitate, doing what I least expected—he whipped out a dagger from Vanna’s shirt and pressed it to her neck.

I heard Midro hiss a breath as Spock stated with his usual stony face, “If you do not show us the location of our captain, I will kill your pirate.”

It only caused Midro to dig fingers into my shoulder, almost strangling me—not really pleasant, but nothing was okay with me at that moment.

Spock didn’t flinch, having gauged the situation with spot-on accuracy.

“You have no idea who you are dealing with, Starfleet,” Midro said with a growl, his fingers flexing and lowering to my arm.

Spock had no reaction—even as Midro threw me to the side and charged right at him.

Vanna fell the ground as Spock lifted the dagger, catching Midro’s blade with a loud clang. He bent backwards at the impact, causing Midro to lean and move into him.

“I am the finest swordsman of Ardana,” Midro gritted out as he took another swing. “I have never been defeated.”

Spock jumped backwards, avoiding a slice at the middle. “Those are incredible odds.”

“Because I fight for revenge!” Midro spat out as he moved forward, where Spock blocked near his waist. “You fight for _nothing_.”

“You are wrong,” Spock stated as he threw off the sword, causing Midro’s arm to pinwheel backwards. “I fight for the _Enterprise_.”

He kicked Midro square in the chest, knocking the air and awareness from him. As he fell backwards Spock grabbed at his shirt, giving another blow to the face that sent Midro sideways.

This allowed Spock to shove his shoulder as hands dived for the neck, where fingers pressed for his signature neck-pinch. Eyes rolled to white as Midro collapsed to the ground, out cold at Spock’s feet.

It was incredibly quick and efficient—I barely had my breath back from being thrown to the ground.

“Well,” I said as we met eyes, both of us surveying the scene and processing the damage. “Guess we’re going back to the _Enterprise_.”

Spock barely nodded, his chest heaving as he took deep breaths. He looked out of it, distracted by inner thoughts and plans rather than noticing the world around us.   
So my mind grabbed at the first illogical thing to hurl at him. “You fight for the ship, Spock?” I stood up gingerly, brushing dirt from my pants. “I’m kind of touched.”

Spock eye’s focused on me, where his lips pressed into a thin line. “Some individuals are worth the sacrifice.”

“I always knew you cared,” I said as I reached Midro, who was out like a light. He looked kind of heavy— _much_ heavier than Vanna, certainly. As if carrying them both to the ship wouldn’t already be twice as hard.

“You are presumptuous,” was Spock’s only retort as he stood beside me. “I will carry Midro, if you will carry Vanna in exchange.”

I quickly glanced at him, feeling like that was an overly-generous offer. Especially since he must be twice as tired as he let on, mentally and physically.

But so was I, and Spock likely knew it.

I stood up and found Vanna in the grass, where she laid bent at odd angles. I took a moment to look her over, and I barely felt her pulse, faint and staggered. “She’ll be really lucky at this point.”

"As we also need luck to navigate in the darkness," Spock started as he hoisted Midro over his shoulder, being none-too-gentle about it. “Let us hope that good fortune is not in short supply.”

 

 **(** “Of which I pointed out that ‘hope’ is an emotion, and he didn’t speak to me for the rest of the trip.”

Jim chuckled at that, but Joanna pressed onward. “So did you get back to the ship?”

Leonard cleared his throat. “Took about an hour of walking to find a clear signal, but yeah.”

At that, Scotty—who had joined them during Midro’s declarations—leaned forward. “Aye, we were worryin’ ‘bout your Da and the Cap’in, so we were searchin’ the planet to begin with.”

Jim shook his head and pointed with his thumb. “Never following orders, this lot.”

Scotty put out his hands. “We were just wonderin’ if you needed the help!”

Leonard chuckled, amused at the both of them, and Joanna cleared her throat to get his attention.

“So you took Midro and Vanna to Sickbay,” she started, leading him on.

Which didn’t escape Leonard’s notice, and his already good mood led to a quirked lip. “Sounds to me like a question from an interested person.”

Joanna rolled her eyes, but Leonard continued. **)**

 

Vanna was knocking down death’s door by the time we reached Sickbay, and it made the search for her poison all the more frantic and desperate. We had her on all life support measures, her body attached to a dozen different machines. But without the actual name of the poison I was helpless to remove it, only able to prolong the agony she was likely under. 

Spock told me about the encounter with Droxine, and how she had searched fervently for foxwood. The name meant nothing to my medical database, and the shape and color of the leaves barely narrowed my options. It was a wild goose chase, Christine and I trying to research possible substitutes. But the answer eventually came from Ardana artwork, where a man bitten by a large rodent had red leaves draped all over his body.

Christine leaned forward to peer at the piece of art closely, eyes squinted in thought. “Looks like a rat from Soronos IV, really.”

“Which also have large fangs like that,” I said as I filled the hypo, the medicine inside my best guess in dire circumstances. “Their saliva destroys blood cells, so the Soronans used to treat it with blood-sucking frogs, or warm-soaked leaves on the skin. The heat or the frog would pull the toxins out.”

“I still can’t believe Ardana has no biological records of all its species.”

I shrugged as I reach her side. “Why should they? They’re in the clouds.”

Christine pursed her lips as we made our way to Vanna’s bedside, the diagnostics not at all promising, but at least still existent. Frankly, after 24 hours of this comatose state, it was a struggle to remain optimistic.

But Christine went to the other side of the bed, tucking a strand of hair behind Vanna’s ear. “There must be something worth fighting for.”

I aligned the hypo with a wry smile. “I hear love is always worth fighting for.” Because yeah, Spock had described that part of the encounter, too.

With a prayer I injected it, thinking through a dozen scenarios of how it might work, and a dozen more in how it might not. The animals might look the same, but their planets were light years apart—it might be the same physiologically, too.

But we waited. Every passing minute that her vitals remained steady was considered a victory, and as they made their steady climb I started to breathe a sigh of relief. I knew that while she may be comatose at least her heart wasn’t failing, or her body about to give out.

It was a long road, though. But as Vanna remained under for another twelve hours, Midro enjoyed the brig—

 

 **(** “A taste of his own medicine,” Jim interjected, arms crossed.

Joanna giggled as Leonard looked over at Jim. “Feeling a bit vengeful, Jim?”

“Oh, not at all,” he answered, sharing a wink with Joanna.

Leonard rolled his eyes. “Anyway, as we waited for Vanna to wake up, and Midro sat in the brig not helping us at all, Droxine was not having a fun time on Cirrus.”

“Of course not, she didn’t want to be captured,” Joanna answered matter-of-factly, much to Leonard’s amusement.

“Oh? Why do you think that?”

“Because she wants to be with Vanna. Why marry a prince, anyway? It’s not Vanna.”

As Joanna drew up her knees and rearranged her blankets, Jim leaned towards Leonard and stage-whispered, “I think I like this girl. Can we keep her?”

Leonard quirked a lip. “As I was _saying_ —Droxine was actually under some duress...” **)**

 

For starters, she was constantly worrying about Vanna. The last time they had seen each other was in the forest, after a long overdue reunion, with Vanna on the verge of death. For all Droxine knew Vanna was _already_ dead, lying in the forest somewhere, alone and unattended. 

But there was a shred of optimism, in that her father and Eduar were constantly searching for the Dread Pirate V and could not find her. If she was hidden that well, maybe she was intentionally evading capture—despite the puzzling and nonsense kidnapping charges.

“Father, the Starfleet man confessed that I was kidnapped for their bribery plot.”

Plasus sat with patience in his ornate chair, next to the throne of the Prince of Cirrus—thankfully unoccupied, as Droxine had wanted to speak freely for days, but had no previous opportunity.

“If anything,” Droxine continued to plead, “the Dread Pirate V foiled their plans. Surely that must say to you—“

“That perhaps she was cooperating with Starfleet. After all—“ and Plasus did his best and least reassuring smile, “what use would the the Dread Pirate V find in saving you? Especially when you represent the government they despise so much.”

At that, Droxine kept her mouth shut. Now that she knew the truth behind the alias, there was much she needed to sort out in her mind. If the injustices that Vanna spoke of were true, then it was no surprise to Droxine that she would take action as the Dread Pirate V. From their short time together, she knew that Vanna was intelligent and compassionate, unable to simply stand by as others suffered.

But acknowledging those truths led to reexamining all that Droxine thought she knew, and that was tiring. In between arguing with her father and avoiding the Prince, Droxine thought about it often while alone in her room.

 

 **(** "What was there to think about?” Joanna blurted in frustration. “Obviously Vanna wouldn’t lie to her, and she knew her father and Eduar were framing her.”

Leonard shifted in his seat. “Well, there was an inner conflict of sorts.” He cleared his throat, which Joanna knew only meant something emotional was unfortunately about to be brought up. “Her mother had passed away years ago, back when she was a little girl. A complication from a stillborn pregnancy.”

“No wonder she studied herbs,” Joanna murmured.

“As a result, Droxine and her father became really close—they were the only ones left for each other, you know.” Leonard was lost in thought, watching the bedspread. “So despite how much she loved and trusted Vanna, Droxine had never known a father she couldn’t trust, or didn’t have her best interests at heart.”

Joanna looked at her father, knowing how she could relate instantly. It had been the reverse for her—a childhood spent thinking she’d never see him again, as her mother had insisted he had run off, never to return. Her mother had doubled as both parents because of that, and they had grown to rely only on each other. It had been normal to not have a dad, and she thought she’d never need one.

Only to find out about six months ago, when the _Enterprise_ docked at their lunar colony, that her father had done anything _but_ run away—in fact, he desperately wanted to see her.

It brought up feelings she didn’t even know how to label, and at first she had slammed the door in his face. Coupled with her mother insisting on a court order barring him from Lunar Station XIII—and that it included being in the station’s orbit—and Joanna thought he was out of her life for good.

Until she snuck aboard the orbiting _Enterprise_ , the curiosity getting the better of her. And after enough running away and hiding in Leonard’s office, her mother had finally relented in sharing custody, knowing that the emotional battle was already lost.

Jim had picked up this star-mapping mission for that reason—well, and besides the fact that Spock really liked them.

Joanna and her father seemed to snap out of reverie at the same time, for they met eyes and stared at each other. They had the same eye color, Joanna decided—hazel that sometimes looked green, but sometimes looked brown, too.

Leonard cleared his throat, looking down to fiddle with her diagnostic chart. “However, Droxine had a good reason to be suspicious...” **)**

 

Eduar stood up from his expanse of stone desk, greeting Plasus with an out-stretched hand. 

“High Advisor.”

“Your Highness.”

They exchanged their expected greetings, waiting for the courier to depart before the Prince dropped his cheerfulness. Both of the men sat at the stone desk, the tone of their conversation turning solemn.

Plasus started with, “Dread Pirate V is still expected to be in the woods.”

“Or she is back in the caverns by now,” the prince stated, his fingers and fists clenching in absent-minded contemplation. “It will hard to kill her if we cannot find her.”

“Problematic,” Plasus agreed.

“How am I to have a rebellion by the wedding if the pirate doesn’t cooperate?” Eduar said with grave disappointment, his hands falling defeated to the desk as he sighed. “This will not do.”

“We could rile up the Troglytes through other means?” Plasus offered, but Eduar shook his head.

“No, no—Dread Pirate V was _perfect_ , a perfect martyr.” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs. “They are divided in their love and hatred of the Disrupters, and especially for their leader. No one else will do—no one else will make them attack each other.”

“But your wedding is in three days—“

“I said _no one else will do_.” Eduar’s eyes flashed fire before settling on cold severity. “I will have Anka and Midro assist you.”

“As they did so well before.”

Despite the air changing around them, Eduar smiled. “From their reports, the Dread Pirate was already in a state near-death—which means they still achieved more than you, Plasus.’

Plasus’ face dropped at the barb.

“Yes, two Troglytes accomplished more than you—pitiful.” Eduar fiddled with papers on his desktop. “There is one thing to be said for the Troglytes, in that they do not hesitate when brutalizing their own kind. Such savages.”

Plasus swallowed at the insinuation.

“I will send out more reinforcements tomorrow. As we speak, Anka and Midro are hunting for the pirate.”

“Midro hasn’t reported for several hours.”

Eduar swayed his head, giving a _so-so_ with his hands. “Midro has his ways, and Anka has confidence in his abilities.”

“Still lacking results,” Plasus murmured, not as loud considering the chastising moments before.

But as Eduar shot him a dirty look, in strode Droxine—in her finest garments, her finest makeup and jewelry.

Both men stood up at her approach.

“My Princess,” Eduar said sweetly, taking her hand to lightly kiss.

But Droxine was not deterred. “Was the Starfleet officer released as I requested?”

As Plasus opened his mouth, Eduar covered her hand with his, responding with a reassuring smile. “Of course, my darling.”

“Is he back on his ship?”

Eduar shrugged innocently. “Presumably so.”

Droxine looked at their joined hands, willing herself not to jerk her arm away. “As honorable as you have been, I have distressing news.”

Eduar frowned in grave concern, leaning against his desk. “My love, what news is this?”

Droxine gave a hesitant look to her father before straightening, her chin up as she declared, “I cannot marry you.”

Plasus sputtered in outrage, speechless at her statement, while Eduar bit his lip and looked dejected.

“This news saddens me. May I ask why?”

Droxine kept her head high, unflinching as her father made blustery noises. “I am in love with another.”

Eduar made a soft keening noise, his other hand reflexively grabbing his chest as Plasus blurted out, “That is preposterous!”

Droxine turned determined towards her father. “I am love with another, and I refuse to throw away what life has graciously given me.”

“But your kingdom! The citizens of Stratos and all of Ardana are counting on you—“

“Plasus, please cease your shouting.” Eduar turned a mournful eye towards Droxine, his pale face somehow remaining composed. “May I ask whom?”

Droxine hesitated at that question, then decided to be honest. “An old friend from my youth.”

Eduar looked down at their still joined hands, his thumb caressing hers. “As much as this wounds me, my love, your happiness is what matters to me most.”

Plasus turned a deep shade of red, obviously not as gracious with her decision.

But Eduar graced Droxine with a reassuring smile. “I will call off the wedding, if it is what you wish.”

Droxine nodded. “It is.”

“However, may I ask for one small favor?”

Droxine watched as her hand moved closer to his lips, his blue eyes not leaving hers as he whispered, “If your love does not return your affections, will you still consider me?”

His lips kissed a knuckle, and Droxine restrained herself from jerking her hand away. “Is this a condition?”

Eduar looked at her with patience. “I merely offer a compromise that will suit all of us. You may accept it or leave on your own terms.”

She swallowed. “These terms?”

“I will send out a missive to your beloved, using all of my finest men and women to deliver your good news across the clouds. If your love comes to fetch for you, I will leave you two in peace—and legitimacy.” He gripped her fingers tightly. “However if they do not respond by the wedding... please do right by Stratos and all of Ardana, and accept me as your husband.”

At that he placed her hand over his heart, his eyes pleading for her to accept his proposition.

 

 **(** Joanna leaned forward, gripping the bedspread in both hands. “She didn’t, right? _Right_?”

Her father shrugged. **)**

 

“Please, daughter—think of more than yourself. Think of the happiness this would bring Ardana!”

Droxine took a deep breath. “You would send them out immediately?”

“Before the ink even dries on your letters.”

There was a long pause as she considered—

 

 **(** “She totally wouldn’t be stupid enough, right?”

Leonard crossed his arms. “You gonna let me tell the story, or what?”

Joanna huffed in exasperation. **)**

 

“I accept.”

 

 **(** “You can’t be serious.” **)**

 

Droxine looked solemnly between her father and the prince. “I will write my letters now.”

Eduar bowed his head. “Of course, Princess.”

At that she took her hand back, stepping away from the both of them hastily and departing with a new sense of purpose.

 

 **(** “Why did she say yes?” Joanna whined, talking with her hands for emphasis. “If she had just left, then she could’ve found Vanna on her own. Now she’s made some stupid deal and Eduar is going to know she’s in love with Dread Pirate V!”

Leonard crossed his arms and nodded . “Yep.”

Joanna gaped at him, wordlessly, waiting for her father to give her a better reason than ‘Yep’. But when none came, she finally huffed and dropped her hands to the bedspread.

“May I continue?”

Joanna shook her head in irritation. **)**

 

In Droxine’s mind, there were various pluses and minuses to the situation. While she desired nothing more than to leave immediately and set out for Vanna on foot—bare feet, if need be—she had limited resources. She had no clue where Vanna was, and certainly not with any speed that an army could deliver. While they would have to vaguely know who the letter must be delivered to—Vanna was not widely known as the Dread Pirate V, after all—a hundred soldiers on foot would surely uncover Vanna faster than any solo journey into the forbidden forest. 

Yet at the same time—Droxine was inclined to do it by herself, anyway. There was a stubborn need to not rely on the Prince, a desire to have nothing to do with him. As kind as he had been to her, there was a feeling she could not shake; resting with a wolf that could turn vicious at any moment.

But he had said the one word that could make Droxine stop in her tracks— _legitimacy_. A word that meant so much in Droxine’s ponderings, when she dreamed of a future with the Troglyte she loved. Not only had there been a need to set things right—gross injustices that she was certain her father did not mean—but a need to keep Vanna in her life for the rest of her days.

Vanna said she should trust true love, and Droxine did. She had no doubt that as she planned her words, Vanna was well on her way to storming the castle, ready to whisk her away at the earliest opportunity. But at the same time there was that point of contigency, an issue stuck in her caw. While she could set out alone on foot and meet her love half-way, they would forever be runaways and outcasts—along with an inherent knowledge that Droxine would be giving up her home forever.

So Droxine wrote her letters, speaking from the heart—

 

 **(** “She honestly thought Eduar would keep such a deal?”

Leonard noncommitedly shrugged. **)**

 

—While the Prince and her father went back to their plans. 

“Are we in agreement?” Eduar said in hushed tones, with his perfect mask falling away as soon as Droxine left the room. “The Dread Pirate V must be found at all costs.”

Plasus stared at him in disbelief. “Your Highness, do you not have a more pressing issue at the moment?”

At that Eduar actually _smiled_. A quiet smile that was authentically him, yet made him more sinister with the passing seconds. “I am killing two birds with one stone, Plasus.”

Plasus narrowed his eyes as Eduar sat up straight in his chair and dragged a piece of parchment to the center of his desk, hastily writing upon it.

“Surely you are not that obtuse.” Eduar quickly folded the paper, forming a perfect envelope. “Your daughter has been concerned with only one person these last few days.”

Plasus shook his head. “The Starfleet officer? But he is not the Dread Pirate—“

“Your daughter insists she was rescued by the Dread Pirate V.” Eduar lit a candle, then found a red tube of wax and held it above the flame. “Starfleet was who kidnapped her, with no fault to the woman who bravely kept her safe.”

Plasus watched as the wax was dripped onto the envelope. Within seconds of it cooling, Eduar pressed into it the metal seal of the House of Cirrus.

“Take this to Paolo Anka,” Eduar said as he handed over the envelope. “He will be able to aid you in stamping out this scourge plaguing our kingdoms.”

Plasus took the envelope in confusion. “The Dread Pirate V is a woman.”

Eduar looked at him, non-plussed. “Precisely the only reason Droxine would ever refuse me.” He waved him off. “You are dismissed. I am busy starting a civil war and killing vermin, I do not have time for your dallying.”

Plasus rose from the stone desk in shock, but left the room to do as Eduar ordered.

 

 **(** “I knew the prince wasn’t stupid.”

Leonard gave her a wry smile. “Guess you should go with your hunches.”

“How is the army going to reach Vanna in three days, though?” Joanna pondered to the ceiling, before a lightbulb went off. “He’s not going to send them!”

Leonard didn’t respond either way, only stating, “ _Maybe_. But at the same time as that, we had our own issues on the _Enterprise_ that might illuminate things a little.”

Joanna patiently waited, not even bothering to check the chronometer in her eager interest. **)**

 

“I believe my language is quite clear, Commander Spock.”

“It is stated in Standard, yes,” Spock said in more testy tones than he’d probably admit. “But your demands are unreasonable and borderline unethical in accordance to Federation standards.”

Plasus looked smug on the viewscreen, as I’m sure he was enjoying the look of frustration on Spock’s face.

“It is also violating your treaty with the Federation to imprison a Starfleet officer—“

“Who has kidnapped my daughter for material gain?”

Spock straightened, his chin lifted as if tilting would pour out his anger.

“Advisor, I highly suggest you analyze the implications of your statement. You are still denying shipment of zenite, of which you have promised to the Federation.”

Plasus actually grinned. “On the contrary, your helping us find the Dread Pirate V will lead everyone to the shipment, and you and your captain can go on your merry little way.”

Spock clenched his jaw—an action I had never seen on Spock, but then I had never seen Spock lose an argument before, either.

“I will see what can be done. _Enterprise_ out,” Spock said curtly, then turned to me once the conference viewer had gone dark.

He didn’t even have to say it. “That lying son of a gun.”

“Indeed,” Spock said, too angry to call me out on my illogical turn of phrase. “It is what I suspected, that the government of Ardana is solely interested in manipulation and nothing more.”

“Do you think they even know where the zenite is?” Wouldn’t that be a twist.

But Spock only stood from the conference table, his mind suddenly on a new lead as I followed him out the door.

“I suspect there are individuals who might know the answer.”

Spock was headed to Sickbay all right, and the moment he ordered the turbolift to that level I ordered it to halt.

Spock was in perfect parade rest, barely acknowledging my existence as I smacked the buttons near the door. But he couldn’t fool me.

“My patient is still unwell.”

“I have no intentions of handing her over or jeopardizing her health.”

“Then what intentions _do_ you have?” I knew Spock was anxious for the zenite and for Jim, but I still had limits.

Spock finally glanced at me, my harsh tone not escaping his notice. “I simply suspect that Vanna and I may have some things… in common.”

At the time, I honestly had no idea what he meant. I thought he was referring to rescuing his best friend, perhaps, or that he was as determined as Vanna in his pursuits. For being the ship’s psychologist, it was going to blindside me some months later, that Spock and Jim had feelings for each other—but in that moment, I didn’t have time to piece it together.

I stepped back from the door. “Turbolift, resume course.”

It was likely a bad idea. But if my hunch was correct—it was way better to have help from somebody on Ardana, than to go in for Jim alone.

“Your patient appears to be sitting up.”

“Let me check on her first—“

But Spock strode through the Sickbay entrance, his gait making it plainly obvious that everything was urgent in mind—no time for standing, no time for breathing. No time for anything while Jim was down below.

Vanna didn’t seem surprised, her impassive face silently staring up at us.

Spock got straight to the point at her bedside. “Are you in full control of your mental faculties?”

I waved him off, moving in front of him to grab a PADD of her progress. “She just woke up three hours ago, what do ya _think_? You—“

“I am able to be interrogated, if that is what you’re referring to.”

“He _isn’t_ —“

“Did your rebel faction seize the zenite?”

I looked between Spock and Vanna’s faces, the battle of stoniness at a near-draw until Vanna quirked a lip.

“The simple answer is no.”

“There, you _see_? Now if you can just stop harassing my patient—“

“What would be the complicated answer?” Spock interjected, his gaze not leaving Vanna’s face as her eyes would not back down.

She had a small container of apple juice in one hand, but this she set aside on the table near her bed. It was an act of getting down to business, of which her attempt to sit up straight accentuated.

“The complicated answer is that yes, we did.”

“Why do I even bother?” I muttered as Spock walked closer to the bed, side-stepping me completely to focus his attention on my patient—my still _ill_ patient, no matter how well she hid it.

“If you would explain,” Spock finally asked politely, as after a minute Vanna didn’t volunteer this information herself.

She folded her hands in her lap. “The High Advisor of Stratos commissioned the mineral for the Federation— _that_ you may be assured of. However, another governing body was not willing to cooperate with such influence, unless there was a greater gain.”

I met eyes with Spock, who I’m sure was thinking of the same individual as I was.

“So we were lured into stealing the zenite.”

“Which you did.”

“Which we did not—much to the High Advisor’s frustration.”

Spock tilted his head. “And yet you were in possession, at some point.”

Vanna appeared to think a moment about her answer, her eyes noticing the paneling on the ceiling.

“By the twelfth hour of your visit, I was called upon by an associate of the government and coerced into taking the zenite. This associate offered a deal… I could not refuse.”

At that, I’m pretty sure my eyebrow was higher than Spock’s. But thankfully his mouth was not as tongue-tied as mine.

“You were aware of our plans to kidnap Droxine.”

That alarmed me, but Vanna shook her head.

“I was not aware of your plans—but I was aware of _my_ plans.”

I sputtered out, “This guy told you Droxine’s route?”

She quirked her lip. “It was supposed to convince you of the savagery of the Troglytes.”

“But your rebel faction is about advancement of the Troglytes, is it not?’ Spock said with a pinch to his brows. “That seems to go against your philosophies, not to mention needlessly risking Droxine’s life for our approval.”

“On the contrary… this associate is more aware of things in the kingdom than even the High Advisor.”

That cinched it for me. “Plasus is a puppet!”

“I will assume it is Prince Cirrus who is the other governing body?” Spock asked Vanna, but Vanna was looking at me with that assured smirk.

“Many men are puppets. It is one thing to be played, and another to willingly engage in the ride.”

I leaned towards her. “You were willing because of Droxine.”

“She has willed me to do many things,” Vanna simply said, crossing her arms as she leaned back, obviously done with either putting up a front, or too tired to do so.

There was a part of me that expected Spock to follow up with a question to that statement. But most of me knew he never would, as it would lead him to dangerous introspection.

“Are you aware of where the zenite resides now?” Spock asked instead, his tone and manner changing to something quieter. More like a Spock that was turning the cogs and wheels in his head, and not simply observing.

She nodded once, lazily.

There was more silence, the cogs and wheels still turning. But as Spock opened his mouth, Vanna spoke again.

“I will lead you to it—under one condition.” She leaned forward, looking Spock directly in the eye. “We also conduct a rescue mission.”

Spock didn’t miss a beat. “As we are already conducting one, I have no qualms with that demand.”

Vanna looked between Spock and I, before asking, “A member of your team is captured?” Awareness dawned on her face. “The other one.”

“We must establish his location and the location of the zenite.”

Vanna took a deep breath. “I have never been in the Castle of Cirrus.”

There was a moment’s silence as we all looked at each other, analyzing our shortfalls and strengths. Vanna was certainly an asset, I wouldn’t deny that. And while I would normally doubt motivations, I knew at this point that Droxine was motivation enough.

Spock caught my eye as he said, “We may have an informant at our disposal.”

It was a second before _that_ piece clicked into place.

“I—I don’t know, Spock.” I shook my head. “Midro seems like his own person. We chatted in the mine, sure—“

Vanna laughed strangely at that. “Every man has a weakness.” She glanced at me with a smirk. “I just happen to know his.”

“Then you will speak with Umar Midro?”

Vanna slowly nodded. “I will speak with Umar Midro.”

But when she swung legs over the hospital bed, I had to clarify— _strongly_ —that it could not be right there and then.

 

 **(** “Is that really a good idea?”

“Which part?”

Joanna huffed a laugh. “How about _all_ of it?”

Leonard sighed loudly, before admitting, “No, probably not.” **)**

 

But within a few hours of rest, Vanna and Spock had conned me into letting her visit the brig. As you might guess, I had more than one anxious person who wanted to get back to the surface.

“I will see him alone.”

Spock and I protested at the same time, but Spock took the lead.

“It is against Federation policy.”

“Then I will not lead you to the zenite.”

“Then you will not rescue your princess,” Spock said just as coolly.

That seemed to work, for all three of us walked into the brig. Spock nodded at Giotto, our security chief, before we made our way to Midro’s cell.

He was sitting on his bed, back against the wall, watching our approach through the invisible security screen. It was deathly quiet, his eyes following one person in particular as we walked to the barrier.

Spock spoke first. “Umar Midro.”

There was no answer, but the eyes kept watching. I glanced at Vanna to see her gaze was just as focused, just as still as the man that stared at her—as if by sheer will alone she could strangle him into speaking, just as he wished to crush her into silence.

Spock also seemed aware of the intensity. “We wish to speak with you.”

Midro remained silent and still as he stared at us.

Spock went to open his mouth again, but Vanna beat him to it.

“You will help us, Umar Midro.”

Midro only folded his hands on his lap, not saying a word.

But Vanna continued. “We must rescue the Princess and the zenite. You will assist us in this.”

It was so demanding, and yet Spock let her take the lead; his dark eyes seemingly interested in observing how they reacted with one another.

They still showed interest as Midro uncrossed his long legs, standing up to walk over to the barrier. His stare was keen on Vanna, his jaw clenching as if he wished to punch through the security screen.

But she held his fierce gaze, answering with, “I have a secret that will interest you.”

“Nothing you say will interest _me_ ,” Midro harshly whispered, his hatred obvious.

Vanna was not deterred. “We both know of an individual who is one of us, and yet works for those who oppress us.”

“You work to oppress us.”

“A man who worked his way up from simple mining Troglyte, to the guard of Troglytes. Respected and feared.”

Vanna inched closer to the barrier, and I resisted the itch in my hands to put a hand out, to stop her from leveling with him.

“Is it not curious to you, Umar Midro, that few Troglytes ever elevate to life above the mines without devious and cruel methods? That we are few in number, because we have histories.”

Midro gritted his teeth, seeming to think that over.

“Is it also not curious to you, that while you and I are assassins, that this individual has no discernible reason for his stature? No reason that you know of… for his authority over you.”

“Anka tortures men who are disloyal to the Prince.”

“He is not the one who pulls the lever, he is not the one who readies the bodies. He has never managed to dirty his hands—or has he?”

Midro huffed out his chest, about ready to strangle Vanna if it weren’t for a barrier.

However, without breaking his gaze, she asked, “I would like to speak with Umar Midro alone.”

“I cannot permit—“

“It will all be _lies_ ,” Midro snarled. “Spill your lies, and the room will smell foul of them!”

“Your associations with Paolo Anka started as a youth, when he was a guard in your section of the mines.” She spoke in a whisper. “He was also the first to alert your family of the Disrupters—the first to alert anyone of the danger.”

“The Disrupters killed my father!”

“Paolo Anka lit the mines like the Gods light the forest—to weed out the sick and old,” Vanna hissed. “Paolo Anka became friends with the Prince for his willingness to murder his own kind—Paolo Anka is still a friend because of his continued willingness to do so.”

 

 **(** “And he’s been working for Anka!” Joanna gasped, her fingers twisting into the blanket. “He’s been duped this entire time, right under his nose!”

“There are some things people can’t believe, or refuse to,” her father only answered. **)**

 

Midro breathed deeply through his nostrils as Vanna stood tall before him, lifting her chin.

“You will find your murderer when we invade the castle. What you do with him once you find him is none of my concern.”

I wanted to object that _we_ might take issue with it, but Spock took that moment to make his presence known.

“We plan to leave for the surface as soon as possible. It would be beneficial for you to join us.”

Midro finally leveled his glare at Spock, of which he spat, “You will _fail_.”

Spock did not even flinch, despite the spittle hitting the barrier and startling me.

Spock only nodded at Giotto behind us, then said to Midro, “You may contact the guard if you change your mind. Otherwise, you will stay here until you hear of our success.”

I looked at the two of them, Vanna and Spock side-by-side, calm and stoic as they gave Midro his ultimatum. They mirrored each other too well, as Midro only gnashed his teeth and stormed away from the barrier.

I followed them both out into the hall, where Spock quietly spoke as we walked the corridor, “We will make plans without him.”

“We have no choice,” Vanna agreed, her legs keeping up with his quick pace.

I struggled to follow from behind, where I could only shake my head.

 

 **(** “This sounds like a bad idea,” Joanna said, her fingers finally unwinding from the blanket. “If they have no idea how to get in, then they have no idea how not to get caught.”

“It was a dilemma,” a voice said from behind the partition, revealing Spock as he rounded the corner. “Yet we were left with little choice. We could not wait for assistance.”

Joanna watched as Spock passed her Leonard to take a chair next to her biobed, his long legs neatly at angles as he settled in to tell, what she presumed, was the next part of the story.

“Couldn’t the _Enterprise_ help or something?” She leaned towards him. “You didn’t really go in there blind, did you?”

“If I may continue the tale, you may find out.”

They both looked at her father, only for him to wave them off, despite not leaving. **)**

 

“The wedding is scheduled for 1700 hours. Security will likely be tightened for such an event.” I tapped a console in the middle of the table, bringing up an aerial view of the Cirrus castle. “I suspect the courtyard is used for such occasions.”

Vanna shook her head. “Stratos has a temple within castle premises.” She pointed to a large section on the first floor. “If Cirrus is similar, it should be here.”

“A temple?” McCoy asked, seated across from us. “Ardana has no official religion.”

“It is symbolic of our past. The temples are now used as ornate halls for meditation and quiet contemplation of a central life force. Many years ago we worshipped the Gods—only Troglytes do so, now.” Vanna analyzed the screen, with a hand on her chin in thought. “On the contrary to your original position, the courtyard might be the best entrance, as Prince Cirrus will want a lavish ceremony.”

“We can beam easily into the courtyard.” I tapped the console again for a closer view of the large outdoor area. “There appears to be enough coverage for us to remain undetected.”

“We can then determine, on sight, where the best entrance may be located.”

Spock nodded. “I will bring a tricorder, which can help detect security.”

“Well, _this_ all sounds awfully fine and dandy,” McCoy said, turning his head to give Vanna a sharp look. “However, you’re still on bed rest.”

“I will not stay in your sick bed, Doctor McCoy,” Vanna stated without sparing him a glance. “I will take a stimulant.”

“You’re on one now, and you can barely stand as it is,” McCoy correctly pointed out, as Vanna leaned her hips into the table. “What good do you think you’ll do Droxine, having collapsed in the heart of your enemy?”

“Poetic, Doctor McCoy,” I commented, not appreciating the delay. “However her assistance is needed, as time is running short.”

“A few hours of rest will not hurt anything, and you know it.” He pointed at Vanna. “Bed rest. At least for two hours.”

“I will not rest.”

“Then you will not _go_ ,” McCoy demanded, then turned to me. “And I can order that, too.”

“I am quite aware, Doctor.” Unfortunately.

As McCoy was about to open his mouth—no doubt for a nonsense retort—the comm beeped.

 _”Security to Commander Spock.”_

“Spock here.” This meant only three things, I was certain. Either Midro was causing trouble, was injured, or had unbelievably changed his mind.

As Security had not alerted Sickbay, my mind whirled into troublesome scenarios for an assassin.

However, _“The prisoner wishes to speak with you.”_

“You may let him speak over the comm line.”

We all sat down at the conference table, as twenty-eight seconds were spent arranging the prisoner.

There was a huff of breath, and then, _”Starfleet?”_

“You may proceed, Umar Midro.”

There was another loud exhale. _”I will aid your endeavor.”_


	6. Endings

**(** “And you trusted him?”

Spock didn’t even blink. “Surprisingly, yes.” **)**

 

“Security will escort you to conference room 343. Spock out.”

I looked up to see the stunned face of Doctor McCoy, while Vanna wore a self-satisfied smirk.

“You appear to have predicted this.”

“If you let a fact stew in a man’s head, the fat of his arguments will eventually be skimmed from the surface.”

“Interesting metaphor,” I murmured, concentrating more on the estimates of when Umar Midro would arrive.

When he did 3.7 minutes later, he built up and rounded out the base of our plan.

 

 **(** “How did you know he wouldn’t lead you into a trap?”

“Considering his plan allowed us quicker access into the building, we were willing to take the risk.” Spock tilted his head. “There was also his disclaimer before we beamed to the surface.”

Leonard harrumphed at that. “How did it go? ‘I do not believe you, but I will help you.’ Which was _really_ reassuring.”

“We also had the _Enterprise_ track our coordinates, where they could beam us onto the ship if our plan was unsuccessful.”

“So, was it?” Joanna asked, with legs crossed on the bed.

“You will have to see.” **)**

 

We beamed into the courtyard at dusk, ducking behind a row of ornamental grasses and trimmed shrubbery. 

I must confess, it had seemed strange to me that Cirrus would want an evening ceremony. For an event that was meant to be symbolic and for the people of Ardana, it would be hard to parade a bride in darkness, or have a festival during the night.

But the courtyard was lit in candles, delicate crystals and bright flowers enhancing the glow. It was disorientating, the amount of sparkling surfaces and objects catching the eye. And it appeared to be even worse inside—the brightness of the lights spilled out onto balconies and stone stairways, along with the voices of merriment and celebration.

But Vanna remained focused. “We will crouch to that side door, where we will enter. The City Dwellers are too enraptured inside.”

She got up to move, but was halted by a hypo.

McCoy grumbled. “Don’t keel over on me.”

Vanna quirked a lip. “Would never dream of it.”

I nodded towards the door, where we all moved behind the line of bushes. Myself, Doctor McCoy, Vanna, Midro, and two security officers that guarded from the rear. We had adequate coverage from the courtyard, but from the balconies above or from our level we were exposed, relying on shadow from the bushes to aid us.

To our fortune everyone appeared distracted, and I stood beside the door and listened carefully, tricorder at hip-level.

It appeared to be quiet, and I nodded at my team as I opened the door.

The hallway was large and built of white stone, decorated in extravagance with gold furnishings and delicate vases. However, what captured my attention were the ornate floor coverings that appeared familiar in design—pink and orange clashed vibrantly, surrounded by a gold symbol that was echoed in tapestries hung on the walls.

I caught McCoy’s eye and he nodded at me, as if he understood the connection. We had seen these designs in the cavern, and they supported Vanna’s statement that Prince Cirrus advocated torture.

Midro noticed our interest and whispered, “Stratos coat of arms. It is customary for the bride to decorate as such.”

I barely contained my surprise, but McCoy was in the same state of bewilderment.

I put out a hand to stop him from speaking, motioning instead to move further along the corridor—we would discuss these implications later, when I felt secure of our location.

 

 **(** “But you knew they were working together,” Joanna pointed out, her brow furrowing.

Spock said a quiet _no_ , then, “We did not know the depth of their complicity. From the conversation between Vanna and Umar Midro, we knew Paolo Anka was an assassin for Prince Cirrus. However at the time, we did not realize that the High Advisor was in charge of the torturer, which Anka exploited.”

“But they were both conspriring—“ Joanna interrupted herself with a thought. “Oh, they were supposed to be peaceful. They took your phasers and stuff.”

Leonard ticked a finger at her. “ _Precisely_. What we uncovered were their unpeaceful methods for keeping that illusion. While they looked down on the aggression of the Troglytes, they were using shock therapy on their own dissidents.”

Joanna sat back. “ _Huh._ ”

“Our discoveries would lead to a deep investigation by the Federation—however, if I may continue?” Spock said looking over at Leonard, who was about to interrupt.

He waved a hand. “By all means.” **)**

 

Our corridor was strangely devoid of any celebration. Midro had explained this was a servant’s entrance, and yet I saw none bustling about. 

“We are clear for 100 meters in all directions,” I stated softly, looking up from my tricorder. “It appears everyone is truly celebrating.”

Vanna relaxed and leaned against a stone wall, although her sword was still held closely to her chest. “Starting prematurely, are we.”

“It is almost 1600. No doubt the bride is dressed—“

“For travel. Excellent.” Vanna pushed herself off the wall, yet she lacked balance and almost tipped over. “We move forward.”

“Not so fast,” McCoy stated, making sure she steadied herself. “I’m walking next to you, lean on me.”

“I am _fine_ ,” she spat, her knees wobbly as we proceeded ahead slowly, watching for anyone unexpected.

Where Stratos had been infused with orange and pink and gold, Cirrus was unexpectedly lighter in contrast. The stone was blasted light gray to white, with blue accents alongside the familiar gold. In hindsight, I had made the assumption that all of Ardana was homogenous to Stratos—it appeared obvious now, that the alliances ran deep.

Yet the Stratos code of arms was too warm in tone for this hallway, its style too bold. It truly did not belong.

“Commander,” I heard Officer Mathews whisper behind me. “I hear something coming towards us.”

My tricorder agreed with him, and I motioned for all of us to press against the wall.

There was an opening for a long hallway between us and security officers Mathews and Leslie. We quietly waited, hearing footfalls and conversation as they approached.

“We should probably put away this pint—“

“It’s a wedding, Marco!”

“Yes, but the Prince says the Troglytes are encroaching. They kidnapped the Princess once—“

“ _Relax._ My instincts are still as sharp as a tack.” There was a loud belch. “Sharp as ever.”

McCoy flicked Vanna a look, and she gave a minute nod.

“You walk the East hall, I’m on the West—“

As Mathews moved in for a head-lock, Vanna already had a guard doubled-over, elbowing the back of his head to complete his fall. He tripped and splayed out unconscious on the carpeting, and soon the other guard joined him in the heap.

Mathews grinned at Vanna. “Nice one.”

“You do not adequately injure your opponent,” she replied, kicking the thigh of a guard until he groaned. “It is fortunate that he is intoxicated.”

“We do not maim our opponents,” I pointedly said, lifting one guard from under the shoulders, where I proceeded to drag him behind a decorative statue.

Vanna shrugged. “It is a shame.”

“She has a point,” Midro added, as he helped to drag the other guard into a low-lit corner.

It was a point I disagreed with, but which I did not have time to argue. As we started to move again I held out a hand, clearly seeing what was about to happen on my tricorder.

“We are surrounded,” I said lowly.

McCoy whipped his head around as Midro and Vanna kept very still.

“Where?” McCoy whispered, but I could only shake my head.

Doors smacked open as the halls were flooded with cloaked men that surrounded us, some wearing the coat of arms for Stratos, most wearing the armor of Cirrus.

“By order of the Prince— _surrender_!”

Dozens of lances were aimed in our direction, encircling the six of us with their dangerous points at eye level. They appeared heavily armed—perhaps more so than we were.

However as I opened my mouth to ask for the Prince, Vanna snorted.

“ _Never._ ”

Which was to be expected. And none of us wasted time as we kicked and shoved lances out of the way to confront our enemies.

Leslie and Mathews took out many on stun, their precision for an unarmored slivers of skin remarkable and commendable.

I maneuvered around many bodies to neck-pinch the same slivers of skin, soon apparent to be an Achilles heel in the looming army.

Vanna and Midro stole and swung lances, knocking out more than my team combined. McCoy would take the disorientated victims and collide them with a wall.

It went on for too long, however, as Midro fell from a harsh blow to the cheek.

“You may still surrender, in the name of the Pri— _ince_.”

The guard fell on top of Midro’s body, as Vanna pushed him off her sword.

Midro stared, wide-eyed, as Vanna could only shrug.

“I apologize for the mess,” she said casually, then spun around to elbow a guard in the nose.

I, myself, had to punch and kick a few guards, as they soon caught on to our peaceful methods. Violence is regrettable—but soon the bodies strewn the floor, most only unconscious, as the rest of us panted and stared at one another.

Vanna fell against a wall, grunting as she said, “That was fun. We should do it again.”

McCoy glared at her. “It’s too soon for another stimulant. You’re lucky adrenaline works in your body just the same as ours—“

“I will support her, Doctor McCoy,” Midro said as he stood next to Vanna, putting her arm over his shoulder.

It was startling to see, and the look exchanged between them held some sort of meaning, of which I did not have time to dissect.

“We are still not alone,” I reported as I pulled out the tricorder, its lights still beeping another group’s imminent arrival. “No doubt word has been sent to the authorities.”

“How did they find out, anyhow?” McCoy wondered out loud, although I held my suspicions.

“It does not matter at this juncture,” I said as I swung at the guard rushing from behind a corner, stealing his lance before it clanged to the ground.

It was another flood, and I contemplated how we would even survive the deluge to summon the _Enterprise_ , much less find a safe corridor to complete our mission.

There was a thought in my mind, to perhaps send Mathews and Doctor McCoy on their own to locate Jim, while I offered my surrender.

Somehow the bodies fell, the corridor messy and obvious. What we needed was to conceal our presence once more.

I pulled out the tricorder. “This section has low readings. Follow down this corridor—“

I looked behind me, counting Mathews and Leslie as they rolled their shoulders, and McCoy tending to a cut on Midro’s cheek.

“Where is Vanna?” I asked, still motioning for the others to pass me down the empty corridor.

Midro looked around him before he shrugged. “She simply… slipped away.”

There was no malice in his tone, although I suspected capture or an ulterior motive. But instead of calling him on it, my main objective was to move us all to a safe location to reorganize.

“ _This way_ ,” I stated curtly, closing a door as I heard a stampede in the previous hall.

 

 **(** “What, wait—you _left_ her there?”

“Our options were limited,” Spock said, perhaps with some regret. “My plan was to regroup before we re-entered the hall.”

Nyota passed in front of him as she rounded the bed, leaning down to kiss the top of Joanna’s head. “How are you feeling?”

“Irritated,” Joanna said under her breath, but then tried to pleasantly smile. “I’m okay.”

“What part are you at?” Nyota asked Spock as she moved a chair closer to the biobed, folding her hands together on the bedspread.

“Vanna has disappeared.”

Nyota grinned. “It’s my turn now, right?”

“I am more than willing to continue—“

Nyota leaned towards Joanna and stage-whispered, “This is my favorite part.”

Spock immediately quieted, allowing Nyota to speak. **)**

 

Meanwhile, as Spock and your father were congregating and plotting in a corridor, Droxine was in her ornate rooms by herself, staring into a small, hand-held mirror. 

She was beautiful. The servants had come and gone to dress her, another round to paint her fair and porcelain face. A woman with long and gentle fingers had smoothed tendrils behind her ears, curling and pinning her thick blonde hair to the top of her head.

Droxine was everything a Princess was supposed to look like. Her wedding gown was lavishly beaded, ribbons and flowers pinned to the bodice of her dress. Her shoes were made of glass, her posture straight and regal. The servants had even decorated her chambers in a romantic fashion, with white silk along the archways, and white petals strewn across the floor and the bedspread.

But Droxine felt nothing like a princess. More than anything, she wished in that moment to be a commoner celebrating in the streets below.

She had sent out her missive to Vanna three days prior, and still no word had arrived from her love. Prince Cirrus had backed away to allow her space, and even had the audacity to appear apologetic at her disappointment.

But Droxine was not necessarily disappointed. There were only two logical explanations, in her view, as to why Vanna was not there to rescue her.

One was difficult to contemplate—that Vanna was dead in the forest, left alone and unattended as she wasted away. This made Droxine shiver, and she immediately banished the thought.

The other was that Vanna never received her missive at all.

“Perhaps she has changed her mind, my love,” Eduar had the nerve to console over dinner the previous night. He had even sighed into his goblet. “Perhaps your love was not meant to last forever.”

“ _Inconceivable_ ,” Droxine had only whispered, deciding then and there that Eduar was a liar.

It left very few options—but at least these options were all in her hands.

Droxine smashed the hand-held mirror face-down on the table, lifting the gold frame carefully to allow the shards to fall to the surface. Setting it aside, her fingers carefully fingered the largest shard, one with a sharp and jagged edged.

She wanted to disfigure herself.

 

 **(** “Wait— _what_?” **)**

 

Droxine wanted to aid the Prince no longer. She had looked on in disgust at his campaign to blame the Troglytes for her abduction. She had loathed his attempts to be friendly with her, to find some common ground in order to rule both their kingdoms. 

But most of all, she had resented that she was a pawn and an object. It had not mattered when life had not mattered—when her heart was still a stone in her chest, carrying on with the responsibilities and motions of life without feeling. She had been content to live as a statue, to be the expected role model for her people.

She had thought that honorable. But when the stone bird in her chest fluttered unexpectedly, she had found what it meant to _hope_ again. To wish life were full and beautiful and blessed with meaning.

She had suddenly remembered what love was, and still is.

Droxine planned to ruin Eduar’s beautiful object. If there were scars on her face, surely he would not want her. If her hair was pulled out and in tatters, surely she would look mad and not serene—she would look no better than the feared Troglytes down below, and perhaps Droxine could pass for one.

But first she would cut her face to conceal her identity. Her fingers shook as she held up the shard, the point of it catching the lights of candles behind her.

Droxine knew it would hurt. But nothing hurt more than the pain her chest, the one insisting that she must rescue not only Vanna, but herself.

 

 **(** Joanna shivered and pulled her legs up, resting a cheek against her knee. The idea of cutting skin was giving her the heebie-jeebies, and Nyota patted her feet in sympathy. **)**

 

Droxine pressed the point of the blade against her cheek, biting a lip as she tested it. Steadying her breath and her resolve, she closed her eyes and started a countdown in her head. 

“It would be a shame to ruin Ardana’s most beautiful work of art.”

 

 **(** “Shut _up_.”

Spock furrowed a brow. “But you seemed to be enjoying the tale—“

Nyota chuckled. “Figure of speech, Spock.” **)**

 

Droxine whipped her head around, seeing a familiar figure in black as it leaned against the stone archway to her room, cool and confident as a breeze. 

Blue eyes went wide. “ _Vanna?_ ”

The beaded dressed weighed down her walk, but Droxine flung herself at the figure in excitement. Hands grabbed at the back of Vanna’s neck to pull her closer, lips meeting frantically in reunion as Droxine’s hands roved to make sure that Vanna was truly there.

“I knew you’d come for me!” Droxine said breathlessly between kisses. “Did you receive my letter?”

Vanna struggled to answer and gain breath at the same time, but instead she smiled as Droxine answered for her.

“I knew he didn’t send it! I was about to just—just—“

Droxine motioned towards the dressing table, the reality of the minutes before settling heavy in her heart. She pulled away, her eyes fearful as they searched for understanding—and was relieved at the forgiving green eyes she found instead, gentle and soft.

“You worried me,” Droxine whispered, her eyes closed and head tilted as Vanna kissed her cheek.

“You had no need,” Vanna whispered back. “I was just delayed a while.”

“How did you—how did you move from—?”

“I may have had a little help,” Vanna said as she leaned back, then called out over Droxine’s shoulder, “Perhaps you can tell her, Your Highness?"

 

 **(** Joanna clutched the blanket in her hands, and Nyota stopped a moment to smile.

Spock cleared his throat. “Perhaps the story is getting too much—“

“ _Ugh!_ ” Joanna threw her head back in exasperation. “You guys got me, okay? I want to hear the story— _don’t_ stop now.”

Spock looked over at Nyota. “She did appear worried, so perhaps you should continue.”

Joanna sent them both a death glare as Nyota chuckled. **)**

 

But meanwhile, on the other side of the castle, Spock and the others also had a pressing dilemma.

 

 **(** Joanna let out a huge groan as Nyota and Spock exchanged glances. Spock looked more amused than a Vulcan should be as he continued the tale. **)**

 

“Did you also check the adjoining rooms?”

“Yes, Commander. We saw no sign of the woman.” Leslie looked over at Mathews. “It’s quite possible they captured her, sir.”

“I am suspecting the same,” I admitted, avoiding McCoy’s unprofessional glare. “Perhaps if we discovered the holding cells, she would be there.”

Midro shook his head. “It is unlikely, as she is a wanted pirate and head of the leading terrorist gang of Ardana. But if she were being held captive, I do know where she would be taken.”

I spared McCoy a glance, noticing he would not look me in the eye with his anger. But it was the best scenario at this juncture, as I had no reason to suspect that Vanna would travel anywhere on her own and survive it.

I nodded at Midro, and with that he led us further down the corridor, not speaking a word. We went through several passageways, a stairwell, and opened many doors, the decorated chambers becoming simpler as a result. When the hallway started to curve he stopped and leaned against a wall, pointing at my tricorder.

I showed him the presence of two individuals not far from our location and shook my head. But he only beckoned us forward, taking us around the corner.

The scenery dramatically changed. Where the halls had appeared white and gold-gilded before, now the stone walls were dirty and dark gray, leading to a set of large and heavy black doors.

There were no windows—there was barely any light. An errant thought occurred to me then, that of all the places to die or be captured, we were in the least surprising of all of them.

Midro motioned for us to press against the walls. When we did so he opened a black door carefully, the sound creaking against his will.

After a moment of peering, he waved at us to follow him. And strangely we did, without question, as a voice echoed out towards us.

“Are you comfortable in your shackles, Captain Kirk?”

The voice was unfamiliar to me, and it raised hairs on the back of my neck. As we poured through the door in a silent line, the man who was speaking made enough noise to cover our tracks with a slicing sound of sharp metal.

“I admire your cunning, Starfleet. It is quite a shame that it will be wasted in this shell game.”

“Starfleet won’t rest about this.”

Jim’s voice also echoed, and thankfully it did not sound distant or ill. Myself and the security team ducked behind a bannister, while Midro slinked against the wall, his hand motioning for McCoy to get on the ground.

“That is what we are counting on. Our suppression of the lower class is becoming difficult to manage, as they breed like vermin. I can imagine with Starfleet’s assistance it will be much… _much_ simpler.”

It was appalling. The audacity of the speaker to assume these things about Starfleet, when our history often suggested a defense and support for the oppressed.

“You underestimate the Federation. We don’t take sides.”

As soon as the other man stopped, I realized that the slicing noise was the sharpening of a weapon. It clanged against whatever surface it had rested on, spiking my adrenaline.

I sent a sharp look to Midro, who seemed to sense that I could wait no longer.

“Then I do truly apologize. This will be for my pleasure alone, then.”

Midro nodded, and we burst from hiding on the staircase. Rushing into the dark, dank room, we immediately came upon several difficulties.

One was the group of guards that had watched us enter. I felt an arm smack against my chest, but I used that same arm to flip a guard over, and then that body to trip another. Soon there were a trail of bodies in my wake, much due to my phaser, but also to my focus on Jim chained against a far-off wall.

The second was the obvious retreat of a severe looking man. He ordered the guards to us, watching the exchange. When it was obvious we would win, he rushed off to an adjoining hall, disappearing deeper into the dungeons.

The third was the falling of Mathews, a lance slicing his side as he protected McCoy. It drew all of our attention, to the point where I almost missed the escaping of Umar Midro.

I rushed to unchain Jim, but he only shook his head.

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” Jim rubbed his wrists as Leslie phasered his chains. “See where they went—follow them!”

I raced in the direction I recalled, unsure of what I would find. It was quite possible that I would be captured or ganged upon, but the man who raced off was now a suspect in the abduction of a Starfleet officer. It was imperative to track him, as Prince Cirrus and the High Advisor would no doubt be unhelpful.

“You look overly confident, Umar Midro.”

I readied my phaser as I crept around a corner, my back against stone as I listened to the adjoining chamber.

“It is a day of reckoning, Paolo Anka.”

The chamber was dimly-lit, but I could see that the man presumed to be Anka was backed against a table, seemingly caught in the middle of gathering supplies.

“If I did not know the worm that you are, I would take that as a threat.”

From across the room Midro stood, tall and foreboding as he walked slowly to the table.

“My name is Umar Midro.”

Anka looked irritated. “I know that, you fool—”

“Then you must know that I have come to kill you.”

Midro’s blade glinted as it slashed through the air, hacking into the wooden table as Anka rolled to the side. There was a hiss of metal as Anka withdrew his own sword, clashing and clanging against Midro’s.

“You traitorous mongrel—!”

“You are a _liar_!” Midro roared as he shoved Anka into the middle of the room, his blade missing flesh by mere seconds as Anka side-stepped and fell into a pillar.

Midro threw a vase in his direction, chest heaving as his anger overtook him. “You—misled— _me_!”

Midro charged as Anka struggled to his feet. Midro’s blade was straight out, but it only served as the perfect angle for Anka to lift his sword—the point stabbing straight into the stomach of Umar Midro.

Midro gulped for air as he felt it plunge, but Anka only laughed.

“You _stupid_ maggot.”

Anka kicked Midro away, gurgling sounds filling the air as Midro stumbled backwards.   
But Anka only smiled. “You _pathetic_ creature. All this time—you had no idea.”

Anka raced forward to kick Midro in the side, and with that I aimed my phaser, waiting for the perfect shot.

“If only you had known—the Disrupters aren’t responsible for _half_ of the mine collapses.” Anka sent a sure kick to the back. “We set fire to the old in order to weed and save the valuable.”

His vicious laugh in the chamber was accompanied by a sobbing Midro, who clutched his stomach as he struggled to get up. Anka would only push him down with his boot, smacking Midro’s face to the stone floor.

“Cry for your family, Umar Midro.” Anka unsheathed his sword. “Cry for the father who would be ashamed of the soaked mess I see now.”

 

 **(** Joanna gaped at Spock, looking gutted. “ _No._ ”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”

“Poor Midro.” Joanna waved her hands in agitation, trying to find the right words. “It’s—it’s _unfair_.”

Spock could only nod in agreement. “I find that life often presents itself that way. It is only a charlatan who claims the opposite.”

Nyota sent Joanna a sympathetic look as the young girl stared dejectedly at the bedspread. **)**

 

“If you make this easy, Umar Midro, I will be sure to cut clean and swift.”

As Anka raised his sword above his head, I aimed my phaser and set it to stun, waiting for his arms to expose his stomach.

But Midro put out a hand, pleading as he kneeled on all fours away from Anka, as if trying to crawl away. “I ask for one last thing, Paolo Anka.”

As Anka tilted his head, he quirked a lip. “A request? Speak it fast, you coward.”

Midro grabbed at his throat, his head lifting up to meet my gaze. But what I saw there was not fear, but a strange and maniacal confidence.

“I—I—“

And in the blink of an eye, Midro pulled a small dagger from his breast pocket and whirled around to throw it at Paolo Anka.

It made a hit, piercing the center of his abdomen as Anka gasped in obvious shock, dropping his sword to the ground.

With more strength than Midro had previously shown, he pulled another dagger from his boot and wasted no time.

“Paolo Anka,” Midro hissed into Anka’s ear. “I want you to say hello to my father and mother.”

He carved into the man’s side, then pulled the dagger upward to gut him. As Anka gurgled and struggled for breath, Midro plunged and plunged until Anka fell off his blade and onto the floor.

I raced forward, disturbed by the blood and gore I saw before me. It had happened in less than five minutes, and yet it felt like hours had passed in front of my eyes.

When I looked over at Umar Midro, the man could only smile as he collapsed to the ground, creating his own pool of blood.

 

 **(** Joanna leaned forward, still anguished. “Did he die? Is he okay?”

“Joey, what’s going on?” Her father entered the enclosed area, fighting for a seat among the gathering crew. Janice was already sitting on Hikaru Sulu’s knee, while Pavel and Nyota sat on the edge of the same seat.

“Dad, Commander Spock is _evil_ ,” Joanna wailed. “Midro is bleeding on a stone floor, and he stops right there!”

Spock raised an eyebrow at this, while her father could only huff a laugh.

“I told you so, Joey.”

“I was merely waiting for your arrival, Doctor. You are more than welcome to ease Joanna’s mind.”

Joanna looked eagerly at her father, followed by several other eager faces wishing to hear the outcome of the tale.

“He must’ve… he must’ve!” Pavel whispered, while Nyota patted his shoulder.

Her father waited a moment, giving them all a large sigh and a regretful expression.

“It was close, but…”

Joanna, Pavel, and Janice leaned forward.

“… Jim and I soon entered the chamber with our security guards, and we were able to secure Midro onto the _Enterprise_.” He gave a reassuring smile to Joanna. “Where he made a full recovery.”

Joanna, Pavel, and Janice all breathed a sigh of relief, and her father chuckled.

“On the other hand…” Leonard looked at Nyota. “I believe there’s trouble brewing somewhere else?”

Three faces looked eagerly at Nyota, and she was almost pushed off her chair with Pavel’s whiplash.

“Yes,” she started, then slowly smiled. “Of course.” **)**

 

While your father and Midro beamed back to the _Enterprise_ , Jim and Spock hadn’t forgotten why they were originally in the castle. Unfortunately for them, they had few leads to go on. While Midro and Vanna had vaguely pointed to a section on a map hours before, there was no way of knowing whether this would be accurate. 

And Vanna and Droxine couldn’t wait for backup as they were rudely interrupted.

“Perhaps you can tell her, Your Highness?”

Droxine noticed the direction of Vanna’s haughty glare, and turned around to find Eduar by her chamber door. He was dressed in white and heavy fabrics, topped with a large and ornate gold crown on his head.

He smiled assuredly. “It is a shame that you could join us.”

“Likewise,” Vanna said smoothly, allowing Droxine to back into her space.

But Eduar only stepped closer. “Pity you cannot join us for the wedding. In fact, I think I will kill you before we even start.” He smiled at Droxine. “Cannot enter my vows with a heavy conscience, of course.”

Droxine only glared. “I knew you were a liar.”

“And I knew you were a gullible and dimwitted little girl.” He held out his hand. “Now, if you would move into the hall my dearest, I will rid us of this vermin.”

Droxine lifted her chin. “No.”

“No?” He sighed. “This is quite unpleasant. I did not intend to carry you over the threshold until our wedding night.” Eduar cracked his knuckles in preparation. “Leave it to women to bleed the romance.”

But as he stepped forward Vanna only straightened, trying for her most imposing voice. “Stop right there.”

Eduar raised his brows. “Or you will do what?” He glanced at her from head to toe. “It appears you are in pain.”

“No, _Your Highness_ ,” Droxine spat out as she stepped in front of Vanna. “The only person who will be in pain is _you_.”

That stopped Eduar in his tracks, but only to laugh loudly. “ _You?_ Come now, do not be silly—you weigh as much as the wind. I could break you in half.”

But when he stepped forward to grab her, his wrist caught the jagged point of her mirror shard, still clutched tightly in her hands.

He withdrew as if burned, and he held his wrist limply. “ _Ow._ ”

“Don’t you _dare_ touch me,” Droxine said dangerously low as she held the mirror shard at chest-level. “Do it again, and you will lose both of your cruel hands.”

“Feisty, are we?” he murmured, but backed up as Droxine approached him. “You can put that down, now. No need to injure yourself.”

“Oh, I am fine, Your Highness.” At that she raised her hand, the point of the mirror pressed under his chin. “It is you who should worry. I do feel feisty today.”

Eduar clenched his jaw, reaching to pull out the ceremonial sword from his hilt. “Do not tempt me, little girl.”

“Do not tempt _me_ , you sick and twisted monster.”

Her fierce blue eyes held his, quite aware that the longer she stared, the more his grew wide with concern.

His gaze flicked to Vanna behind her. “The most feared pirate in all of Ardana leaves it to the weak, is that it?”

“On the contrary, you miserable, vomitus mass,” Vanna said as she crossed her arms. “If you are paying attention, I am leaving it in strong and competent hands.”

Droxine pressed the point harder and Eduar flinched.

He cleared his throat. “I can kill you where you stand. Both of you.”

But as he grabbed at his belt, Droxine only stepped forward to growl with all her pent-up anger, “ _Drop_ your sword.”

It took a moment, but his hands moved away from his waist.

Droxine stepped closer, forcing him backwards. “ _Sit_ down.”

He gulped, then did so without hesitation.

Droxine started to rip ribbons from her dress and hair, using them to tie Eduar to the chair, as Vanna started to slide down the wall.

“Ha!” Eduar said triumphantly as his legs were bound by strips of drapery. “I knew you were bluffing!”

“It is quite fortunate you are an idiot,” Vanna murmured as she felt herself hit the floor, her head lolling at a weird angle.

When Droxine finished by gagging the talkative prince, she ran over to grip Vanna by the shoulders.

“I _knew_ something was wrong!” Her hand touched a cheek to straighten Vanna’s head. “What did Starfleet do to you?”

“All they could,” Vanna said with a wan smile, which Droxine didn’t buy one bit.

She helped Vanna to stand, putting an arm over her shoulder. “We have to depart. There are no guards now, but that’s going to change once I’m late for the wedding.”

As Vanna was about to motion behind them, they heard a great commotion in the hall, then the door cracking and smacking the wall as a group entered.

The two parties evaluated each other, before Vanna relaxed.

Jim raced over to help with Vanna’s other side, as Spock opened his communicator.

“Commander Spock to _Enterprise_ , six to beam aboard.” He looked down at the chair next to him, the gagged Prince glaring as he rocked sideways. “Ignore the seated individual.”

“ _Ready for beam up.”_

Eduar tipped his chair over and he screamed into his mouth-gag, watching as the beams faded the team away.

 

 **(** “So you brought them on the _Enterprise_?”

Nyota looked to Spock for that one.

“We believed it was a safe distance for… renegotiations.” **)**

 

_”You kidnapped my daughter!”_

I shared a glance with Jim as we stood side-by-side on the bridge, facing the blustery rage of Plasus on the viewscreen.

Jim innocently shrugged. “You call it kidnapping, I believe we call it… willfully escaping an unpleasant situation.”

Plasus swallowed an angry breath. _”The Federation will hear an earful about this!”_

“You know, that’s all right.” Jim gestured casually with his hands. “And since you’ll have them on the line, just pass it to us—we’ll tell them about all the new things we’ve discovered since trying to obtain the zenite.”

 _”Threats do not sit well with me, Captain Kirk.”_

“That’s one thing we have in common.” Jim motioned behind him, where he knew Nyota was one switch away from hailing Starfleet. “So if you can just hand over the zenite, nobody has to threaten anyone at all.”

 _”If you think you can harass the Prince and abduct my daughter without recourse—“_

“He did not abduct me, Father.”

Plasus squinted into his screen as Droxine walked into view, having just stepped off the turbolift while holding hands with a pirate.

Plasus turned an unnatural shade of red. _”I have nothing to say to this.”_

“I have plenty, Father.” Droxine walked across the bridge until she stood between the two of us. “If you do not release the zenite, I will say these things to Starfleet instead of to you.”

Plasus turned stony, and even more so as Vanna joined us, somehow standing tall behind Droxine.

He waved a hand behind him, then stated, _”We are sending the coordinates of the zenite to your consoles.”_

Sulu caught Jim’s eye, motioning that he did indeed have the coordinates.

“Excellent,” Jim stated. “Thank you for your service to the Federation.”

 _”I expect to see my daughter soon.”_

And with that the screen cut out, leaving Jim to smile at the three of us, but especially at Droxine.

“We don’t make a bad team. Sure you don’t want to join Starfleet?”

Droxine looked over at Vanna and shook her head, although she was grinning. “I’m afraid I have enough battles to fight at home, Captain.”

“I don’t envy you one bit.”

“We wish you the best of luck,” I added. “The Federation supports the spirit of your endeavors.”

“We owe much to the Federation,” Vanna answered, as the four of us walked to the transporter room and waited for the zenite.

 

 **(** “That was easy.”

“It was our original agreement, although it did take some coaxing.”

Joanna stared at Spock for a good long minute, waiting for him to speak again. But all he did was look at each of the eager faces in turn, before Joanna sighed in exasperation.

“That’s _so_ not the end, right?”

Spock seemed confused a moment, before he stated simply, “We did retrieve the zenite and avert the agricultural disaster on Merak II. It was quite successful.”

“No, no, _no_.” She glared at Spock. “You’re not seriously leaving it there, right?

Spock shook his head minutely. “It is the end of the story. I am not quite sure what you would want me to add—“

“Commander Spock?”

Spock turned his head, and Joanna watched as Jim peeked his head out of her father’s office and beckoned Spock over.

Spock turned to Joanna. “Excuse me.”

The small gathering watched him leave, and Pavel actually sighed in disappointment.

But Joanna still had one burning question. “What happened to Vanna and Droxine?”

Nyota raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. “What about them?”

Joanna rolled her eyes. “I mean, you’ve made me sit through 12 hours of their story, and you just leave it at grabbing the zenite and running? Totally not cool.”

Nyota smiled. “And I thought you didn’t like all that ‘mushy’ stuff?”

“It’s not _mushy_ stuff. It’s... “ Joanna waved her hands in frustration. “It’s finishing a story you’ve started!”

But that only seemed to amuse Nyota more. “Well, if you insist...” **)**

 

Life certainly wasn’t easy for the both of them. They may have escaped the clutches of Droxine’s presumed fate, but there was still their future to contend with—and the future of the Troglytes. After the _Enterprise_ left they were on their own, and in the end, that was exactly how Droxine and Vanna preferred it. 

For now that they had found each other, through great trials and impossibilities, there was no way they could allow themselves to be parted. They had been through too much, and they would not throw back what life had graciously allowed them.

In the end, Eduar surprisingly kept his word. They were left in peace, never again to bother and disgrace the Prince of Cirrus like they did on his wedding day, and never to be subjected to his rule. His promise of legitimacy was held up at Droxine’s insistence, her vocalizations to the public making this happen more than Eduar ever feeling honorable.

But it paid off. On the plains above the caves, there became a settlement of pirates and Troglytes alike. Independence was still far off, but rights of the enslaved were fought for and won—inch by inch, case by case. It helped that the former Princess bride of Stratos was now the wife of the Dread Pirate V, and she used all of her knowledge and influence to make life better for everyone she knew.

 

 **(** “But the Troglytes still aren’t free?”

Nyota sighed. “These things take a long time, unfortunately.”

Joanna made a face. “That’s crap.”

“Droxine’s mind and heart changed because of one specific person—and likewise, some city dwellers reconsidered when they heard Droxine fight passionately for them. But certain people will always be bigoted.”

Joanna crossed her arms. “This is a sucky ending.” **)**

 

As ambassadors, Droxine and Vanna were able to make a good life. The Troglytes received more rights due to their insistence—they obtained face masks for the mines, and the hypo injections stopped to make them docile. It was a slow revolution, but one that continues to this day. 

But most of all, there grew a family of love—one that was allowed to be together and remain together, in peace. Fighting for what they believed in after they had worked so hard to fight for one another.

 

 **(** Nyota leaned back, sighing as she picked idly at the bedspread. “And then, you know— _mushy stuff_.”

The silence that followed was filled with an anxious Joanna, until she huffed loudly and said, “Okay, _okay_ —I want to hear the mushy stuff.”

Joanna could feel the heat in her cheeks as Nyota gave her a knowing grin, and Joanna had to add, “You know, to finish the story.”

“Oh, of course.” **)**

 

In the history of all of Ardana, few people had ever seen a love quite like theirs. Equals, not only in intellect and interests, but in fierce devotion. They could argue and rage like a storm, and then come together with a healing rain—with a kiss that would put any great literary romance to shame. 

And there they still live, refusing to settle for anything less than a long life together, and hoping to always be blessed with each other’s love and happiness.

 

 **(** “Yes, Captain.”

“Then I’ll see you on the bridge in ten minutes.”

Nyota and Joanna both turned their heads to the doorway, where they saw Jim and Spock linger for a brief moment. Their eyes seemed to hold an invisible thread, keeping them tangled as fingers raised for the strike of matches—this time with the air starting to spark.

But Jim only swallowed before walking away, turning right from the doorway as Spock turned left. Yet the empty space where they had stood still held Joanna’s attention as she received a kiss on the forehead, and Joanna still thought about matches as Nyota left.

Love was strange.

“Okay, Joey.” Leonard turned off the diagnostic screen above her head. “You’re released from prison now.”

But Joanna could only still stare at the doorway, a question suddenly occurring to her. “Dad, when did Jim and Spock decide they… _you know_.”

He raised his eyebrows, obviously not knowing. “You’re gonna need a few more words, there.”

“You know— _love_ each other.” She pointed to the doorway. “To get married and stuff.”

At that he smiled, lowering the bed and tidying up the space. “Well, sometimes when you meet the right person, you just know.” He pulled back the partition curtain, exposing the rest of Sickbay. “But trust me, with those two it took a _long_ time for their heads to catch up with their hearts.”

Joanna jumped off the bed, thinking things like that were awfully silly. “Love is really weird for different people.”

Her father picked up a dozen candy wrappers, grimacing as he counted them all. “Yeah?”

“I mean, Droxine and Vanna kiss and declare stuff a lot. Yet Jim and Spock kind of hide it, and barely show anything at all.” Joanna went to the other side of bed, pulling out candy wrappers that Pavel had squished under the mattress. “But they seem to love each other the same. Devoted and everything.”

Joanna looked up to see her father thoughtful, his hands idly tapping the edges of a PADD.

“Well—adults are funny, sometimes. But what really matters is that _they_ know. They don’t have to prove anything to anyone else, just each other.”

Joanna could agree with that. After all, her mother kissed and hugged Joanna all the time—they’ve been doing that since she could remember. But it didn’t mean she had to do the same with Leonard. He didn’t seem like the type, for one, and Joanna wasn’t even sure if she wanted them to.

But as he walked her to the entrance of Sickbay—both of them filling the empty space where Jim and Spock stood before—the air seemed electric around them.

He wasn’t so bad. Sure, Leonard had just locked her up for twelve hours in Sickbay, but it’s not like she didn’t deserve it. In the end, she found out some pretty interesting stuff—mostly that her father seemed to care about everyone, even pirates.

Leonard leaned against the doorframe of Sickbay, wearing a goofy smile—which could only mean that incredibly sappy stuff was coming up.

“Glad you’re okay, Joey.” He scuffed her shoulder with his knuckles. “Now get along, and go get into more trouble. You’ve only got a day left, since Jim just got a new assignment.”

He looked reluctant to walk away, and with that Joanna knew she was about to say the cheesiest thing in her entire life—who knows if she’d ever live it down. But at the same time, people had to start _somewhere_.

She smiled back at him and said, “As you wish.”

Her father’s smile froze, and Joanna quashed the rising anxiety in her stomach. She could totally explain that line away, right? If he didn’t want it to mean something she’d never say it again, and they could just forget it.

But instead the goofy grin grew wider, and he patted the top of her head. “As you wish,” he repeated in an awed whisper.

At that they both turned away, with Joanna retreating to a turbolift. As the doors closed she thought about what she had just said, and realized she was not embarrassed at all, just strangely nervous.

After tomorrow she would hopefully see him again, and soon. **)**

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed the story, try out the [Author Notes](http://rainbowstrlght.livejournal.com/210030.html) to see how it all fit together. There's also my [Masterlist](http://rainbowstrlght.livejournal.com/202426.html) too, if you have the time. Thanks again for stopping by. ♥


End file.
